Cornelia: A Tale of Twilight
by ScarletDevil1503
Summary: "My father was a vampire; my mother was a human. Since I may not have much longer to live, I've decided to make a record of my life. I have seen death and love; despair and hope; tragedy and miracles. My name is Cornelia." Follow the life of a hybrid through the canon Twilight universe, from her birth in 1778 through love, loss, and friendship. T for blood & romance. MultiCanon/OC
1. Part 1: Carlisle – Table of Contents

**Summary:**

This is my story. I should probably start at the very beginning, so you may understand better: my father was a vampire; my mother was a human. It has been quite a few centuries since I was born, so I have decided to make a record of my life... as I may not have much longer to live. I have seen death and love; despair and hope; tragedy and miracles. I regret little, as everything I have done has been right in my own eyes. My motivations were purposeful, and my memories are pure. My name is Cornelia.

**Genre:**

Romance/Adventure/Drama/Angst

**Note:**

Thoughts_, _dreams, and flashbacks in _italics_.

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own Twilight; no copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning:**

Reviews may contain spoilers.

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><p>*~ <strong><span>Cornelia: A Tale of Twilight<span>** ~*

Part 1: Carlisle

_Table of Contents_

Chapter 1: Beginnings

Chapter 2: Nature

Chapter 3: The Storm and the Stranger

Chapter 4: Hoquiam

Chapter 5: A Chat with my Uncle

Chapter 6: The Aversion

Chapter 7: The Confrontation

Chapter 8: A Human Christmas

Chapter 9: The Request and the Behest

Chapter 10: First Day of Spring Part 1

Chapter 11: First Day of Spring Part 2

Chapter 12: Fork in the Path

Chapter 13: Eternity

Chapter 14: A Building Tempest

Chapter 15: The Battle and the Aftermath

Chapter 16: Prize to be Won

*~**C**~*

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><p><strong>AN: Hello! This is my first uploaded story.**

**Some things you may want to note:**

**I wrote most of this story before I had read _Breaking Dawn_, so this was my version of "hybrids." Somewhat different than Renesmee, but I have an explanation: Cornelia is a "venom-producing" female hybrid, whereas all the girls in the books are non-venomous. A stretch, maybe? Have no fear - I read _BD_ thoroughly before throwing it in my fireplace.**

**The beginning, Part 1, is set during the time when Carlisle came to the Quileutes _before_ he had the whole family together. I realize that the town of "Hoquiam" wasn't settled until 1890, but this is fiction fiction.**

**Most of this story is canon. I hate breaking the timeline, but you may see a little wackiness here and there. Though I haven't finished writing it yet, I plan to continue this story's timeline into the year 2010.**

**I've uploaded the first three chapters all at once since the storyline doesn't start until Chapter 3. I am currently in the process of rewriting the first several "parts" of this story to be more canon, so I hope you like the product. You'll see many familiar characters throughout, and OCs abound.  
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**This is not beta-read, so forgive my careless typos. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I do writing it.  
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**-Scarlet**


	2. Chapter 1: Beginings

*~ Part 1: Carlisle ~*

**Chapter 1: Beginnings**

_ December 5, 1778_

_ Boston, Massachusetts colony_

I remember my birth. I remember looking into my mother's eyes for the first and last time. I remember my father's murder of her in front of my newborn eyes. I remember crying for the first time when he held me in his cold arms. I remember him abandoning me in a snowy forest the very day of my birth.

No one bothered to grant me a name, so I took one for myself – Cornelia. I am a hybrid: the once-in-a-million chance of human/vampire procreation. My birth occurred on the fifth day of December in the year 1778, in an English colony called Massachusetts. The War for Independence between Britain and her New World colonies had just began there.

To my knowledge, my mother was an 18-year-old girl from Boston, who, in an attempt to flee the chaos that the fighting provoked, was sexually violated by a vampire. In the frenzy of the War, no one seemed to notice that the girl went missing during my time in her womb. I don't know why my father allowed my mother to give birth; this has always been a mystery to me.

As if fighting for dominance over my immortal half, my human hormones gave me a great burst of growth in my early life. Resulting, I aged much faster than human children did. The midwife who'd taken me in told me I had a terrible illness, and raised me with care and compassion for this very reason. However, there was a massive outbreak of smallpox in my hometown during that time, and my new mother soon took ill and perished.

I lost my humanity in the year 1785, when I reached human maturity at the age of seven. Vampire venom flooded my system, changing me into what I truly am. The pain stayed for hours – perhaps a full day, though the memory is not clear to me. I do know that I found refuge in a grass clearing in the forest, near dusk on a cool September evening. The weather didn't matter to me then; the fire was all-pervasive.

I have been told, since that time, that the experience was equivalent to what humans undergo during the transformation into a vampire. You see, I favor my father. When I stopped aging, my body system began producing venom. Human blood still flows through my veins, but the venom also sustains my life. It's almost as though life and death were crammed into one body. Resulting, my heartbeat slowed immensely that day. The venom made me incredibly strong – even stronger than pure-blood vampires. The change gave me incredible energy; I felt the need to sleep only once a week. My senses were also heightened, much like my strength. Due to my slowed heartbeat, my skin was slightly cooler than a human's. My flesh was half as solid as a vampire's, and it shimmered faintly in the sunlight. My speed was also not as great, favoring my mother.

As I said, life and death in one body.

I suppose I fell asleep sometime during the night on that September evening, long after the pain stopped, for it was daybreak by the time I awoke. The bright light warming my eyelids caused me to open them. What I beheld was something I'd never experienced before. Colors and lights danced before my new eyes, blinding me with their intense spectrum; hundreds of thousands of sounds buzzed in my ears, and fragrances assaulted my nose.

_What's happened to me?_

As far as I knew at the time, I'd been completely normal. Other than my rapid growth, I was completely human in appearance and abilities. I had yet to encounter any sort of supernatural elements, so the experience was strange and new to me. Nevertheless, I stood slowly to inspect the new abilities of my body. I heard the heartbeats and breathing of animals in the woods distinctly – a few squirrels, a herd of deer, and many different birds. I took a deep breath, startled by the hundreds of scents around me… fresh grass, honeyed lilacs, spicy oaks.

However, one scent stood out to me in particular. I followed the faint trail and discovered it to be a small red fox, pawing at the ground. My new instincts asserted themselves. _D__rink, drink, drink_. Without thought, I pounced, snapped its neck, and licked at the red liquid that dripped from the fresh wound. It tasted sweet and refreshing, and it filled every one of my senses until I could take no more. I pulled away once I'd satisfied myself, and stood over the corpse.

I suddenly came back to myself. Gasping in shock, I stepped away from the broken body and blood-stained grass. I stumbled back to the clearing, disgusted with myself. _What have I done?_ I raked my memory for guidance, and came up with a single event_..._

_My father took my mother in his arms shortly after my birth, burying his face in her neck. Her scream of pain didn't last long as her flushed cheeks slowly drained of color.  
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I violently shook my head to dismiss the grotesque image, feeling my eyes swell with tears.

My hands were stained red, disgusting me further. I found that the front of my dress was also dyed crimson with the fox's blood. After a few moments of growing desperation, I began to follow the distinct sound of living water. A mile's walk revealed a small brook flowing through the forest. I rinsed my soiled clothes in the chilly water, occasionally drinking some to clear the taste of blood from my mouth. Though it had satisfied me immensely, the very thought was sickening. I scowled at my reflection in the water, noticing changes these as well.

My small cheekbones were more defined than before, and my lips had darkened a shade or two. Though my features in general were small, it appeared that my skin had tightened around my cheeks and jaw. My complexion was chalky as though I had been very ill. The only feature that remained the same was my light brown hair, falling to my elbows in thick, tangled clumps. My hazel eyes were clouded with a light honey color, forming around my pupils in golden flecks. I wondered how the color got there, and if it would eventually overtake my entire irises.

Before I could ponder my eye color any longer, my sensitive nose picked up a strange scent. I was hesitant to follow it... I didn't want to attack anything again. The scent led me back to the clearing where I had lain in misery for those days. I stopped just inside tree line and observed three figures looming about in the bright grass. Sun reflected off their pale skin as though it was glass, sending rays of light glimmering throughout the clearing. A gasp escaped me, and three pairs of crimson eyes flashed to my hiding place. My instincts screamed for me to flee as those eyes faded to a bottomless black.

Their advance was faster than anything I'd ever seen before, quickly limiting my escape routes to zero. "What _are_ you?" I said as I stumbled back, breathless with sudden fear. They circled me as if I were an animal, their menacing snarls inhuman and terrifying. I looked to each one helplessly as two of the three crouched as if to spring.

My instincts guided me into a defensive stance, and I was surprised by a faint growl rumbling in my chest. _I'm just as much an animal as they are._ Then, the third one sprang at me. My hands rose reflexively to block the attack as a scream built in my throat. Instead of feeling the impact that I expected, I felt a cool tingle on the palms of my hands, and heard a whooshing sound... then what sounded like a large rock falling the ground.

When I looked up, I saw a light mist in front and above me, then, slowly, as I gazed about myself, it formed all around me. The man who had attacked me was now on the ground, which accounted for the loud thud, looking rather confused. The two others slowly approached the mist. I put my hands down and once again stood defensively. As I did so, the mist disappeared and the two men stumbled forward as if they had been... leaning on it?

The third suddenly sprang at me again, weighing me easily to the ground with his knees on my shoulders. I quickly found that my strength overpowered his, so I pushed him away with one, mighty heave. I scrambled to my feet as he regained his footing, but I was suddenly detained by the other two, who grabbed me roughly by the arms. I struggled to free myself to no avail – I stood no chance against their doubled power.

A frightened shout left my lips as the third returned, standing close enough that I could smell him. His scent was sweet and spicy. Towering above my small stature, he curled his icy fingers behind my neck, sending a wave of awareness through my body. He whispered a single word in a strange language, and leaned his face towards mine as if to kiss me. I soon discovered that his actual target was my neck...

The sound of swift feet on the forest floor alerted me to several new presences approaching. The man strafed back from me and sniffed the air, scowling. The howl of a wolf split through the cool morning air, rising every hair on my head. The two others dropped my arms and stepped away, panic flashing through their eyes just before they bolted through the trees. I sniffed the air; the scent of cherry wood and earth grew nearer as the howls grew louder. I stumbled back from my one remaining attacker, looking eagerly in every direction. _What horrible thing could possibly make those creatures run? Should I be scared, too?_

My attacker was suddenly swept away by a flash of brown fur. I whimpered in fear, vaguely recognizing the beast as a large bear. Growls and yaps filled the trees around me, and I realized that I was surrounded by the beasts. Cherry wood and earth. My knees trembled weakly as I forced myself to remain standing. When one of the beasts turned its head in my direction, I discovered it was not a bear, but...

"A wolf..." My voice spoke the truth, but my eyes simply wouldn't believe it. The giant brown wolf clamped its jaws around the man's shoulder, and a deafening screech filled my ears as it ripped the man's torso in half. Think, dark blood sprayed across the sunlit grass. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the horrific scene, so I clutched my ears tightly; my head felt as though it would explode. A black wolf trotted toward the carnage, its teeth barred as it growled ferociously.

As the tears, growls, and yells continued, I felt my terror build up inside me, threatening to conquer me. _Stop! _I sunk to the ground and covered my head with my arms, clenching my teeth together and squeezing my eyes shut. _Please, stop!_

After one last blood-curdling howl, silence descended over the forest.

I held my breath as I heard the heavy paws approaching me, hoping that I would somehow disappear. My heart mercilessly pounded the inside of my ribcage, echoing in my ears like a drum. _It__'s over as soon as it began,_ my mind screamed, _I'm going to die now!_


	3. Chapter 2: Nature

**Chapter 2: Nature**

_1785_

_Somewhere in New England_

A warm hand nudged my shoulder.

"Go away!" I shouted shakily, my voice quivering as I curled in on myself further.

"I… mean no harm."

Finally, something I understood. I relaxed a tiny bit, and cracked an eye to see the man who stood over me. His brown eyes looked at me worriedly, and his brow furrowed. I slowly came out of my ball, and scotched away from the man, using my hands. His skin was much darker than I was used to, and he wore no shirt or shoes, which I had never before seen on a man. He scared me greatly.

Even my own voice startled me, "Who… who are you?" I held my knees tightly to my chest and stared up at him. He sat down slowly, crossing his legs on the grass.

"My name is Lakota," he said, and a strange accent was strung in his words. "What is yours?"

I swallowed thickly, not too inclined to be friendly. "C-C-Cornelia."

Suddenly, another man appeared from the trees. He had a similar appearance to Lakota, but had longer black hair and wore a frayed shirt of some kind. He wasn't as tall and imposing, either. He began speaking in a foreign language, and I felt myself becoming afraid again. I had heard of Indians before, but no good things. They were enemies, _savages_. Who knew what they wanted with me?

Lakota put out his hand to silence his companion, not taking his eyes from me. "Where do you come from, Cornelia?" he asked, simply continuing our exchange.

"Uh… um," I stuttered, my entire body quivering with nerves. I wasn't much the conversationalist. "I-I hail from Boston, but…" I paused, relaxing slightly under his friendly gaze. "Can you tell me what's happening to me?" I asked him, my voice trembling.

He smiled, beckoning to the other man. "I must tell you a story…"

He went on to explain about the world I'd stumbled across. _They…_ were destined to always be inherent enemies, and they had been since before time. I listened, with much difficulty, as he told me that he was a "guardian," a "protector" of humankind.

He was a werewolf.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Something began that day which took me several years to understand. I call it the "vampire magnet." The mixture of my human blood and vampire venom in my body created a pheromone-type effect, which attracted vampires. Once a vampire caught wind of my scent, they became crazed, feral – consumed by uncontrollable bloodlust. Which, as you may imagine, made it very hard to survive.

However, this allowed me to become a natural friend to the werewolves of the Native North Americans. They protected me from _them_… yet, what did I do for them? This question haunted me with every death on my account.

My blood wasn't the only unique thing about me. The vampire gene I inherited from my father gave me a special ability. I have the power create any sized barrier, which appears in the form of a haze, or mist. They are impenetrable, indestructible shields. I've never been able to create a shield without the use of my hands to trace where it would go, which is the only limit to my gift. It's is a strictly physical power, though there is an element of intellectual will.

Years passed, and I stayed with Lakota's tribe for one decade. I leaned that he was the leader of a "pack" of werewolves, and the other man, Quee, was his second-in-command. They taught me the art of combat, so I could help them fight and defend. _So_ many vampires came in those first few years, and other young warriors of the tribe changed into werewolves. I couldn't stand all the trouble I caused them - fighting, death, war.

I remember the very last thing Lakota said to me. He had made me a gift - a parting gift of sorts - and, as he gave it to me, he said, "Survive, Cornelia; that's all that matters." It was a foot-long dagger made of unpolished silver, with a carving of a baying wolf on the hilt.

And, with that, I moved on. Not soon after, I was being so savagely hunted by vampires, I was forced to find haven with another tribe of werewolves. I found that not all Native Americans inherited the wolf gene, and it was very uncommon that I found a pack of werewolves. So, I simply tried to avoid _them_ as best possible. I was constantly on the run; I hated this weary existence, but the vampires never failed to come. Sometimes one or two, or sometimes a whole group, what they called a "coven."

Soon, in the course of human events, the British got fed up with American freedom and decided to come start the War of 1812. After a year of the bloody conflict, I decided to travel West. Having never been out of New England, I was quite excited. In my excitement, I accidentally ran all the way to the Pacific Ocean.

The ocean air was crisp and clear, surprisingly warm for the late month. I sighed and looked out over the peaceful waters. The sun set in the west, casting it's shimmering light over the waves. I don't know how long I stood there, over the ocean, because my mind wandered far away.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

"_What is your name?" the woman asked, staring sternly over the half-moon rim of her spectacles. A line was perpetually between her eyebrows, and her lips were curled in a frown. However, my mother had told me to listen to everything she said… or else._

_ "Um…"_

_ Truthfully, I didn't know my name. Did I have a name? Martha, my mother, called me "Pigeon." But… that is the name of a foul, is it not? Joshua, the boy who lived down the road, called me "Girl." That is my gender, right? So, what was my name, truly?_

_ The only sound in the one-room schoolhouse was the chipper crackling of the furnace in the corner, which Teacher had kindled far before we students had arrived. Martha had sent me here to this tiny establishment of learning because she had too, in accordance with the Ole' Deluder Satan Act._

_ Even though it was mid-winter and our young nation was fighting for independence from the Motherland, the children of rural Boston were required to learn how to read. Martha had already taught me from her copy of King James's Holy Bible, but again, she had felt the need to send me here. The girls sat in the five rows of seats to the left, and the boys sat on the right. We were arranged by age: youngest to oldest, front to back. We each had our Hornbooks set on the desks in front of us, with our ABC's and our Lord's Prayers printed and mounted on the wooden faces. My copy of the _New England Primmer_ was fairly new – used before me only eight times – since I was a new arrival._

_ However, none of this was of any note to me. Teacher had realized her lack of knowledge of my name when she'd handed me a paper and told me to read it. I guessed she hadn't noticed me slip into her classroom at the beginning of the lesson. I couldn't very well say that my name was "Pigeon Girl."_

_ "Girl? Your name?" Teacher pressed impatiently._

_ The bigger girl in the seat behind me, who had already told Teacher that her name was Elizabeth, giggled. The smaller girl in front of me, who appeared around four years of age, looked back at me with big, brown eyes. The boys across the aisle whispered to each other._

_ Thinking quickly, I looked down at the parchment perched in my small hands. It appeared to be a list of births in America for that year, listed alphabetically. "Cornelia Lott Green" caught my eye because it was the longest._

_ "Greene," I quoth._

_ There was chortling from the boys side, and several older girls gasped. The girl in front of me flinched __when Teacher wrapped her knuckles with her meter stick, __and she whirled back around in her seat._

_ "Dear child," Teacher said icily. "That is most definitely your surname. I only wish for your first. What do they call you?"_

_ I forced myself to look that scary woman right in those cold, blue eyes of hers, and stood as tall as my 2-year-old body could possibly stand. "Cornelia," I said._

"_My name is Cornelia."_

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Sometime later, I heard a werewolf transform into human form about a mile away. I didn't turn; I was tired of introducing myself. Fast steps pounded the ground until they came close, and slowed.

"You have… human blood," a deep voice said from behind.

It wasn't a question.

I nodded anyway and turned around to see a nearly seven-foot-tall Indian, who smiled brightly. I couldn't help but smile too, as a nice cloud of reassurance came over me at merely his presence.

"I am Titus Black of the Quileute tribe."

I took his outreached hand in a good shake. His clothing was that of a chief. "Cornelia." He might have made me smile, but I was in no mood to talk.

"We have peace with the Colds Ones in this area."

My eyebrows when together in confusion.

"Golden eyes," he added, motioning to his own.

That did nothing to enlighten me on the matter of "peaceful vampires", but I nodded anyway. _They won't be very peaceful soon._ "Where am I?" I asked suddenly.

"This is Oregon Country," he replied brightly. I'd certainly heard of it; many pioneers from the East had come there long ago. "Quileute land lies _far_ north of here. You are welcome." He then motioned to the south. "The white settlement of Hoquiam very near, southeast."

"Thank you," I said, turning back to the sea. The sun was merely a shrinking halo of light as it dove into the sea. The man gazed with me for a few minutes.

"We will be watching."

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, then heard him phase as he ran into the nearby woods. Going north; going home.

My heart squeezed. _I have no home._


	4. Chapter 3: The Storm and the Stranger

**Chapter 3: The Storm and the Stranger**

_October 21__st__ 1813, Sunset_

_Hoquiam, Oregon Country  
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The light faded from the sky as I made my way south. Human scents became closer with each step I took. I hadn't walked among humans for many years, and I feared how I may fare. Another thing that was worrying me was the "peaceful vampires" that the chef had spoken of. Did the Quileutes have some armistice with them? Did they allow them to hunt of their land?

_That would be dreadful._

I felt a drop of rain on the back of my hand just as I saw the first buildings of a town. From half a mile away, I read the sign clearly: "Hoquiam Tack and Bridle." The dark clouds in the sky made the sunset much darker than ordinary, and I saw no humans outside of their homes as I walked into town. Few lights shone through the buildings of shops and residences, and I looked up at the high steeple of a church as I passed.

I soon walked out of the other end of town. I wasn't used to such a small society of humans, having lived in cities like Boston and Charlestown, but I guessed that that was how humans functioned in the West. _Or it's because the Quileutes let them all die._ I shuttered as the rain became heavier, and it soon doused me thoroughly.

Halfway back to the main road, I was shivering and wet. The rain splashed in the muddy street as I walked by the church again. My worn leather lace-ups were filled with water, making squishing sounds with each step I took. My purple dress of many days was soaked and torn, and now had a distinctly brown appearance. My long hair had half-fallen out of its braid, and was plastered to my forehead and cheeks.

A cold wind had picked up with the rain, and it bit and stung at every exposed inch of my skin. The pine trees around town groaned with the harsh breeze, and offered little shelter from the abusive weather. _Why have I come here in the first place? _ I mistook my tears for rain. Thunder clapped in the near distance.

Suddenly, I spied a figure walking along the opposite side of the street, very far away. I found it odd that anyone would be out during such weather. The figure's head was bowed under a large, black umbrella, and I recognized the shape of a tall man. Then, a scent penetrated the rain, and my back went rigid.

The man was a vampire, and he was walking in my direction.

Before I could act, the man looked up, as though first noticing me as well. Raindrops blurred my vision, so I put up a hand to shield my eyes. What I saw was not what I expected.

He wore a formal black suit with a white shirt and a loose black necktie underneath, and carried a black leather bag at his side. This attire gave him a very human appearance, and it startled me. We stared at each other, unmoving, until I was forced to blink.

Then, not breaking my gaze, the stranger stepped forward. I stepped back… naturally. His brow furrowed as though he was deciphering something.

He stepped forward again, this time a bit more cautiously, and slowly crossed the street. He raised his voice against the howling wind, and I heard every pitch of his musical speech, "Hello?"

I thought it was strange that an Englishman be so far from his home, but that wasn't what worried me. The man had astonished me by closing the distance between us completely, and sharing his oversized umbrella.

I was paralyzed from either the cold or from fright. Granted, my feet had become quite sunken in mud as I had stood there, but that was not an appropriate excuse for my action. I _stayed_. I stayed and stared up at that six-foot vampire like a small child staring at Saint Nickolas. I was about to become a warm meal for him, yet I stayed.

His expression turned to that of concern when I didn't speak. "Are you well, Miss?"

That's when I noticed it. Maybe I had been looking at his mouth before, or perhaps at his fair blond hair. But the moment I saw his eyes, I almost tripped in the mud when I stepped back in shock. "Y-Y-Your eyes!" I exclaimed, pointing between his nose.

He looked more surprised than I. His mouth opened to say something, and then closed. He frowned down at me as I gaped up at him. "Forgive me," he said, ignoring my accusation. "I am Carlisle Cullen."

He held out his hand, and my eyes darted from it to his face. _He'll kill me for sure._ Instead of taking his hand, I took another step back. "Er, Cornelia," I said.

He put his hand down after a moment. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He spoke louder than the rain that thudded on the umbrella and the wind that blew my shirts. "May I ask what keeps you so in the rain, Miss Cornelia?"

I shook my head. I didn't want him to know any vulnerabilities. Like how I didn't know where to run if he…

"Well, I suggest you get indoors before you catch cold."

I balked. _Why is he worried about my _health_? _I felt compelled to put his concern at ease, so I spoke. "Thank you, but I never take ill." Even though my life was at imminent risk, I didn't forget my manners.

He looked perplexed, as though I had told him I ate tree fungus for dinner. His brow furrowed once again, and he shifted his feet. "Might I at least offer you some shelter for this evening? This weather is good for nothing."

_He's trying to lure me away from human sight. He'll kill me with no witnesses. _"No, Mister Cullen. I must decline."

He nodded, as though he'd expected the answer. "Allow me to point the way to the nearest inn." He motioned to the building next to "Hoquiam Tack and Bridle." I saw faint candlelight in the downstairs, and several windows indicated a spacious second level. "I must encourage you to seek rest there."

He confused me – now he was sending me away. I would gladly run. "Th-Thank you! I-It was a pleasure," I stammered, stepping away.

I felt the man's eyes on my back as I sped off in the direction he pointed out. I broke into a run when I reached the main street. I was free.

The sign above the door said "The Featherbed." I pushed open the thick wooden door, and was grateful for the rush of warm air that greeted me. I closed the door behind myself quietly and quickly took in my surroundings.

A human sat behind a low counter at the far side of the room, with his chin resting in his hand. He looked middle-aged, unshaven, and half asleep. There was a large, open space to the right of the counter with several tables and chairs. A fireplace crackled from the corner. To the left was a small stairway to the second level. I then heard a soft snore, and realized that the man _was_ sleeping, with his eyes half open. The floorboards creaked as I made my way to the human at the counter.

I cleared my throat, but he didn't stir. "Um… excuse me?"

The man made a coughing sound in his throat, and opened his eyes fully. He acted as though he had been awake all the time, and I got the impression that he practiced the trick often. "Ahem, yes, can I help you?" His voice was gruff from sleep.

"Er, uh, yes. I'd like an overnight room," I said.

The man smelt foul; he had either rolled in a pig sty or ate rotten potatoes. He grunted some incoherent reply and motioned to the staircase. The only words I caught were "twenty cents."

I bit the inside of my lip. I had forgotten about money. "Um, oh. I-I don't have enough," I stuttered.

The man shrugged, and leaned forward on the desk. His rancid breath was like smelling burnt garlic. "No fare, no room."

My spirit dropped. I had usually been able to convince people to give me what I wanted, but this man was downright uncivilized. Yet, I had to try. "Sir," I began, "_please_. I can work off the charge tomorrow, sir… I-I can cook and clean, and I've even –!"

His bloodshot, brown eyes were more aware than they had been all night. He leaned forward again. "I-could get my-boss for you if you'd-like-maybe he'd work something-out for-you-love." His words slurred together, and I now recognized the scent on his breath. Alcohol.

I nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, please do."

And then he hobbled around the counter, and entered a doorway I hadn't noticed under the stairs.

I stayed where I was the entire ten minutes he was gone, during which I heard him open the string bottle he had on his ankle and take a drink. Then, I heard him knock loudly on a door, and another human stood and answered it.

"Yes?" It was a man's voice, undeterred by sleep.

"Mister Wells… sir… there's a girl here, and she cannot pay…"

"Peace, Martin. I'll see her."

"Yes, sir… of course, sir…"

The smelly man didn't come back out, but the new man did. He had a kind face, well shaven and clean for a change. He had deep blue eyes and thick black hair, and he had to duck through the doorway to enter the room. He appeared several years younger than the other man. He was surprised when he saw me, and he appeared concerned as he walked over. "Miss," he said, holding out a hand, "I am Caleb Wells."

I didn't feel keen to shake his hand, so I simply brushed my fingers with his. "C-Cornelia."

"Martin tells me that you cannot meet the fee for the night," he said, somewhat sympathetically.

"Please, sir. I just seek shelter from the storm and I am fully willing to work for the fee. Perhaps in the kitchen, or in –"

"Miss, I haven't the mind to make a slave of you…" He laughed heartily, and I blinked. "We shall speak of compensation in the morning. Now, let's see…" He walked behind the counter and dug around in the shelf under it.

"Oh my," I said, wringing my fingers. "I couldn't possibly accept…"

He stopped suddenly, and looked at me closely. "You haven't been here long. Where is your family? Your parents?"

His perception startled me. I wasn't usually associated with my apparent age, but this man was more observant than the others. "Well, I… I've come from Boston to stay with my… my uncle."

This response seemed to relieve him. "Sorry to intrude, Miss Cornelia, but you seemed very young to be offering yourself for work."

I could only nod and smile, somewhat sheepishly. He returned the smile. Then, he found what he was looking for and motioned to the stairs. "Let me show you to your room."

I followed him up the stairs and into a long hallway of doors. "I cannot thank you enough, sir."

"Worry not," Mister Wells said. Then, after a moment, he stopped in front of the last door on the right and faced me. "Would I be familiar with your uncle?" he asked suddenly. "It is a small town and I know most everyone."

I froze. I hadn't expected him to be so curious. _People in the West must be very different from the East._ I tried to imagine something that wouldn't sound ludicrous. Obviously the shrewd man would see through any pale lies. My mind flashed to the tawny-eyed man on the street. "Er… Carlisle Cullen?" I resisted the urge to clap my hand over my loose tongue. _What have I done?_

His eyebrows nearly met his dark hairline. "The _doctor_?" Then, as if catching himself from rudeness, "I… wasn't aware that Doctor Cullen had any family." He looked troubled.

"Yes… well, yes, he is my mother's brother, who passed away. I'm not surprised that he doesn't favor speaking of it." My lie was unfolding so naturally… so harmfully.

"Oh, I see. Forgive me for inquiring after it," he apologized.

"Think nothing of it. My mother died long ago." _Very long ago…_

"I bid you goodnight, then, Miss." He held out a key for me to take, and bowed.

I took the key, and said goodnight.

After I'd heard Mister Wells' footsteps return to the room under the stairs, I put the key in the lockbox of the door and turned. I closed the door behind myself quickly and turned the lock again. The room was small, but very comfortable. A red glowing fire burnt low in the hearth, and a candle flickered upon the table to the right. A small bed was shoved into the left corner, and had several quilts upon it. Beside the bed on the left wall was a small wooden wardrobe, which was empty. Two apples, half a loaf of bread, a pitcher of water, and three cups sat on the table.

I immediately sprang for the food and tore a piece off the bread. I had hunted elk the previous day, but my travels had thoroughly exhausted me. After finishing the bread and half of the water, I took off my shoes and set them by the hearth to dry. I laid my dress out to dry as well, and sat by the fire until my underclothes were only damp on my skin. I set my only possession, Lakota's silver dagger, on a shelf in the wardrobe. I wrapped myself in many warm blankets, laid on the soft mattress, and fell into a very deep sleep.

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><p><strong>What do you think? Drop a review!<strong>

**-Scarlet**


	5. Chapter 4: Hoquiam

**Chapter 4: Hoquiam**

_October 22__nd__ 1813, 7:11am_

_Hoquiam, Oregon Country  
><em>

The sun woke me. I hadn't noticed the window over the bed before, and now the dark sky had brightened with sunshine. Grey clouds were still out; it looked as though it had rained all night.

I turned onto my back stiffly. I hadn't slept long enough, because I didn't feel comfortable in the strange place. Finally rising ten minutes later, I finished most of the water in the pitcher and ate one of the apples. I shivered in the cold morning air; the fire had gone out during the night. My dress and shoes were dry, and I used the rest of the water to rinse my face after I'd gotten dressed.

I heard voices from downstairs when I stepped out into the hallway. As I cautiously descended, I saw two other guests had been up already, and were enjoying a meal at one of the tables. A new face was behind the counter, and the young lady smiled broadly when she saw me.

"Good morning! Mister Wells told me that you had arrived last evening."

I smiled. "Yes, just last evening."

She walked over to me and took one of my hands in hers. "Oh, dear! You're chilled through! Let me get you something warm to drink," she said, pulling me over to the closest table.

I sat on the wooden chair, entertained by her hospitality. Her round cheeks were flushed and her blue eyes were bright. She wore a simple brown dress with a faded brown apron, and half of her dark brown hair was covered with a dark blue cloth. Her subtle beauty and stout figure were charming. "W-Why, thank you."

"Not at all, dear, not at all! Serving is what I like best." Producing a bowl from behind the counter, she rushed to the fireplace in the corner, and filled the bowl with some hot liquid from a pot that hung there. She then set the steaming bowl on the plate in front of me, and I noticed a spoon a fork off to the side.

It appeared as though my white lie from the previous night had spread to other ears.

"You're too kind. Thank you so much." I looked up at the woman gratefully.

"You're very welcome, dear. I'm Martha, by the way. Martha Brown."

I then understood why I had taken to the woman so quickly. The woman who had "adopted" me in after I was born; the woman who taught me the meaning of life – her name had been Martha, and she'd had blue eyes. The Boston smallpox in 1780 had separated us forever. I swallowed thickly. "My name's Cornelia," I said to Martha.

"Good to meet you, Miss Cornelia." She was distracted by another guest arriving downstairs. Enjoy your meal!"

I took the spoon from the table and dipped it in the bowl. I blew the steam off the liquid and put it too my lips. It was chicken broth.

"You're a new face around here, aren't you?"

I looked up at the person who had spoken. The two men at the table across from mine were looking at me curiously. The elder man with grey hair had spoken. "Um, yes. I just arrived last evening."

"So they tell me…," the man remarked.

I felt embarrassed that they already knew so much about me. A _lie_ about me, granted, but something nonetheless. "Do you live here in Hoquiam, sir?" I asked, wanting to level the conversation.

"Naw," he drawled. "I'm a fisherman up in Port Angelis. The name's George. I'm in town for s'pplies."

"I'm Cornelia," I said, tipping my head in greeting.

"This here's Jonathan, my accomplice." The old man laughed roughly and smacked the other man on the shoulder.

The second man nodded to me; he was younger than George but they looked similar in appearance. "It's a pleasure, Miss. Don't let my brother scare you away." He smiled good-naturedly.

George tore off into another fit of laughter.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "I haven't heard of Port Angelis… is it north of here?"

Jonathan spoke for his brother this time. "It's just a small fishing village; I'm not surprised you haven't heard of it."

I nodded in acknowledgement and took another sip of my broth. The guest that Martha had greeted walked by to sit at the farthest table by the fire. It was a young man in a black robe.

"Mornin', Father," George said, grinning. It was disrespectful to address a cleric in such a manner, but I simply explained it as another strange thing people in the West did.

"Good morning to you, Mister George. I trust your evening was peaceful?" His voice was monotone, and he only glanced up long enough to nod.

"As peaceful as a church on Sund'y night," he said factually, and then started laughing away.

The Father's face was stoic.

I finished my broth quickly; the young man made me nervous.

"Miss Brown?" I caught her on my way out.

She stood from her work behind the counter and smiled. "Please – just Martha."

"Martha," I amended. "Do you know when I may speak with Mister Wells?" I had already determined that he was not in the building.

"He's gone to the next town for something, but I'm sure he'll be back by nightfall, Miss."

I nodded. "Thank you."

The morning was crisp and damp. The thin cloud cover overhead shielded the world from the sunbeams of light. Few townspeople walked the streets, and a horse-pulled wagon was pulled up to the building across the street. The words "Hoquiam General Store" was written on the front, and a large window showed its variety of merchandise inside. Men were unloading supplies from the wagon and carrying them inside.

The devastation of the storm could be seen everywhere – branches and leaves were scattered throughout town. Several men were helping clear a large limb off the church lawn as I walked by.

As I walked, I thought what I could do with myself there. _It now seems awfully silly of me to be here. _I had come on a whim, and a whim can only take you so far. Then, it struck me. I didn't have to work for Mister Wells to pay my debt; I could find employment _anywhere_ in town.

I briskly jogged back to the General Store.

There was a tall woman in a purple dress speaking to the merchant behind the counter when I entered. Most the merchandise was stacked in the ceiling-to-floor shelves behind the counter, and whatever wasn't on the shelves was in barrels or sacks. Some jars of candy were lined up on a table to the left of the door, and a large crates were stacked up to the right with labels such as "sugar" and "barley."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll place the order immediately."

"Thank you, John. That's all I need today."

"Very good. A fine day to you."

The lady in purple eyed me curiously as she turned and walked out the door. I stepped up to the counter. "Hello," I said.

The brown-eyed, brown-haired man looked surprised when he saw me. "Well, hello! What can I help you with, little lady?"

"Well… actually, I was wondering if I could help _you_. Are you looking to hire, sir?"

He smiled when he heard this. "I've been considering hiring some part-time aid for a while now, in fact." He paused. "But aren't you a little… young to be looking for such a thing, Miss?"

"Um…" _Why are humans so inquisitive in the West?_ "I've just arrived here from Boston, so I have very little. It would help me greatly if I could earn a small salary."

His eyes lit in comprehension, but he still didn't look very convinced. "All right, then. You can start helping me here for a small bit of cash, and maybe it'll be profitable for the both of us as we move along." He smiled wide and stuck his hand out to me over the counter space. "I go by the name 'John Stockton' here in town, Miss."

"I'm Cornelia," I said, taking his hand in a light shake. "Thank you very much, Mister Stockton."

"Have you a place to stay in Hoquiam, Miss Cornelia? Do you have family here?"

I briefly considered how I should respond. It was apparent that this man had not heard my lie yet, but if I told another story to him then people would begin to question. I had already made a claim, and I'd better stick to it. "I've come to live with my uncle," I said vaguely.

His next question was natural, "What's his name? I probably know him."

I took a deep breath and said, "Carlisle Cullen."

His reaction was similar to Mister Wells'. "Doctor Cullen? Who would have thought that man had… family!" He laughed, and then quickly turned it into a couch. "Yes, well… when would you like to start?"

I smiled. "As soon as possible."

Very shortly, I was stocking shelves with new supplies and dusting windowsills. Mister Stockton helped the frequent patrons that passed the threshold, and I worked behind the scenes to make their shopping experience a good one. However, I heard customers murmur about me behind my back; even Mister Stockton gossiped about my supposed uncle. My heart sank deeper and deeper with each whisper. _How will I get out of that situation?_

Nevertheless, I enjoyed my work so well that I was surprised when Mister Stockton informed me that it was lunchtime. He told me I'd worked enough for that day, and gave me my first pay: fifty cents. He said that I could return the next day for more work. I lost count of how many times I thanked him.

With five shiny dimes clenched in my hand, I felt on top of the world as I walked back out into Hoquiam. It was enough to pay my fee at The Featherbed and to buy some new clothes. I put two dimes in my pocket to pay Mister Wells when he returned that evening, and walked down the main street of town.

There was a tavern directly across from The Featherbed, called simply "Hoquiam Tavern." I pictured a much less refined version of the inn I had chosen. A glassblowing shop was next to the General Store, and a bookstore stood at the end of the buildings on the right. A Post Office stood all alone at the end of the street, and two men were arguing over a newspaper headline on the porch. The last building on the left was my destination: "Hoquiam Tailor Shop."

The shop was much more spacious than the General Store, and there were more windows that let light in. Glass-paned cabinets along the western wall held yarns and thread of all colors. On the opposite wall was scores and scores of materials. There were solids, florals, and tartans of all varieties in rolls along the wall. Along the back wall was a long wrack of pre-made clothes. A thin lady in an apron sat in the far left corner on a stool, sticking and pulling a needle through a piece of blue cloth. A middle-aged man with red hair stood spoke with a young lady by the material rolls. The whole room smelt of fresh flax and cotton, and the bright colors and lighting was very appealing.

When I stepped further into the room, the woman on the stool looked up at me. She smiled as she walked over to me. "Welcome, dear. I don't think we've had the pleasure –?" Her misty voice complimented her willowy frame, and her wide blue eyes were curious as she awaited my introduction.

"Cornelia, ma'am. I'm new in town."

"Millicent Weaver, Miss Cornelia. But don't let the name fool you – I'm the town's seamstress." She giggled at her own little joke and embraced me lightly around the shoulders.

I tried to relax around her motherly manner. "It's good to meet you, Miss Weaver."

"But, dear, where's your mother?" She stepped back and looked behind me, as though to find something there.

"She… passed away while I was living in Boston. I've come here to live with my uncle." The lie was so easy now; I was beginning to believe it myself.

Empathy erupted in her kind eyes and I felt as though I'd just told her that _her_ mother died. "My God, how terrible that must be for you… I apologize for –"

I put up a hand to stop her. "No need. It happen long ago when I was very young."

But she was still close to tears.

Wanting to change the subject away from myself, I smiled and said, "I'm looking for a new dress."

Seeing my discomfort, she immediately brightened. "Is that so? You've come to the right place, Miss."

She lead me to the back of the store and showed me the variety of dresses they had in my size. After taking my eye color and complexion into consideration, she declared that the royal blue muslin dress and overcoat suited me best. I consented easily… until I looked at the price tag. I tried not to gawk at the $2 tag and insisted that something warmer would do with the cooling weather. However, even the simple, forest green cotton dress was ₵75.

Deeply concerned (yet subtly unnoticing) about my financial situation, Millicent lead me to the raw material section. I found the very same gingham green, cotton material, and determined that ₵12 worth of the fabric would be enough for an ankle-length dress and a hair covering. Another ₵8 of a matching solid green material would make a fine smock. I paid four more cents for a needle, thread, and scissors, and thanked Millicent for her time.

I took my purchases and my remaining ₵6 back to my room at The Featherbed, and found that Mister Wells had returned early. He treated me to an afternoon lunch, and we discussed my situation over a steaming bowl of Martha's fresh vegetable soup. I produced the two dimes from my pocket, and Mister Wells looked impressed.

"Mister Stockton at the General Store has taken me on part-time," I informed him.

He nodded. "John has been wanting an employee for a while. I'm happy that you've occupied yourself here so quickly."

I smiled. "I can't thank Mister Stockton enough."

As we talked, I leaned that he had inherited the inn from his grandfather who had passed away. Much like myself, he had moved to Hoquiam away from his family to manage the business.

"You've no family here, Mister Wells?" I asked.

"Only my sister – Martha."

"Martha is your sister –!" I was surprised; save their eyes, they looked little alike.

"Yes," he said, smiling at my disbelief. "She married Shamus Brown shortly after we moved here. You may have met him at the tailor's. He's worked there for years, and they live together in the apartment above the shop."

I remembered the red-haired man I'd seen at the Tailor Shop, and nodded.

In the end, Mister Wells and I came to a financial arrangement. He would charge me half-price (a very generous ten cents) until I could find permanent arrangements in town. I could feel his curiosity as to why I didn't simply stay with my "uncle," but he was too polite to inquire after the topic. I didn't understand his boundless generosity, but thanked him endlessly anyway.

I returned to my ten-cent room and began work on my new outfit. While I had been out, Martha had rekindled my hearth and refilled my pitcher with clean water. I dragged a chair from the table to sit by the fire, and laid my supplies out of the bed. I had photographically memorized the pattern that Millicent had showed me, so I made cuts here and there on the material to begin. I sewed as quickly as my super-human dexterity allowed, yet I had only finished half of the dress after two full hours.

Wanting to stretch my stiff legs, I went back outside for a stroll in town. More clouds had gathered on the horizons, and I smelt that rain was soon to come. I walked by the main street shops, the church, and the doctor's office to reach the small human neighborhood on the far side of town. Most of the homes were two-story duplexes, but some privately-owned homes were larger.

For the first time, I noticed a small trade shack beyond the houses. Several wagons were waiting to pick up supplies for trade, and several were unloading purchased supplies. I spoke with the employee that managed the stables, and discovered that Hoquiam was a major lumber hub in the North. Traders from as south as Nevada came to buy their cuts, and they even bartered with some French-speaking Canadians. There were several lumber camps and mills surrounding Hoquiam for many miles.

On my way back to The Featherbed, I caught a scent that I wasn't expecting. Werewolf.

I tracked it to the building across the street from my inn – the tavern.

Forcing myself through the swinging wooden doors, I was met with the putrid smell of alcohol and smoke. There was laughing and yelling all around the two story, open room. There were two gentlemen at the bar, competing on who could drink more before passing out. The third man had already passed out at his stool. Tables and chairs filled ever available space in the room, and many groups of men were playing cards or dice games at them. However, a space had been cleared in the center of the room (tables had obviously been pushed aside, adding to the clutter) where a group of men stood in a circle. The other patrons seemed not to notice them, and the bartender was watching nervously, looking pretty helpless.

A boy, appearing about 15 or 16 years of age, stood in the center of the circle of men. His dark skin and brown hair gave away his heritage easily. Apparently, the six white men had some sort of quarrel with the boy. The latter, sensing my presence, looked behind himself at me. His expression blanked, and he opened his mouth to say something…

Then, as he was distracted, the man nearest him swung his fist at him. The human's knuckles cracked against the boy's jaw, no doubt fracturing in several places. The boy stepped back in surprise, and put up his hands in surrender. The man clutched his fist and howled in pain.

"Son of a bitch!" another man yelled, staring at the boy.

"S-S-Sorry!" the boy stuttered, stepping away and waving his hands.

He bumped into a third man, and he grabbed the boy by the collar and shoved him down to his knees. "What the hell is wrong with you, Black?" the human yelled.

_Black. Titus Black. His son, perhaps? _"Stop that!" I shouted.

Nearly every eye in the bar turned to me. The men in the group laughed, and my knees all but buckled by the smell alone.

The man who held Black eyed me with his bloodshot eyes, and a smile creased the sweaty, unshaven skin of his face. Tobacco smacked in his mouth as he spoke, "Who says, little girl?"

I squared my shoulders with what dignity I had. "Let that boy go, sir. What you're doing is wrong."

Another ripple of laughter went through the crowd, and some men at the tables looked up from their cards. The man with the tobacco seemed to be the ringleader. "I just have a small dispute to settle with young Ephraim here," he drawled, smirking.

The boy was struggling to keep his composure as he was held down, and I became worried. I'd known young wolves to be dangerous; Lakota had never let me near his sons when they first transformed. But I was unsure... _Perhaps wolves in the West are different, as well?_

My hands began to shake at my sides. "Sir, let him go. You don't know what –"

Suddenly, the boy gave a terrible cry, and within half a second he was out of the door. All the humans present were startled; it must have looked like he simply disappeared. Without ado, I quickly left the bar while the humans were distracted.

Outside, the boy had already made it halfway down the main street. _At least he remembered to run like a human._ I tore off after him, and caught up as quickly as I could. He was already behind the Post Office when I reached him.

"You there!" I shouted, slowing my steps.

He had already fell to his knees on the ground. He breathed heavily and clenched his fists to his chest. His gaze was frozen on the ground. He had almost lost control for sure.

I carefully put a hand on his shoulder, and his head snapped back immediately to glare at me. "I-I apologize. I saw you there… I simply had to help –"

"_No,_" he growled, standing rigidly. I stepped back. "_They're_ not right." He turned, and his eyes burned down at me. "Father _only_ sent me to give _this_ to Peter Whittier." He shoved a half-crumpled envelope towards me firmly, speaking abruptly. "_They_ didn't _like_ my _skin_."

I took the letter from him. "Peter Whittier" was roughly scribbled on the front; a name I wasn't familiar with. I looked up at the boy and smiled kindly. "I'll make sure he receives it. You can go home if you have no other business in Hoquiam."

"No, I _don't_," he spat, annoyed. "Be sure that _only_ Whittier gets it. Don't let _any_ other hands _touch_ it. He'll know what it is when he sees it." Then he paused, as though realizing something important. "Wh-Who are you?"

"Oops, I should introduce myself. I'm Cornelia." I offered my hand, and his forever-fevered one shook mine firmly.

"Ephraim. Ephraim Black."

I smiled; he was proud of that name, and rightly so. "I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other, Ephraim."

His eyes narrowed, and I could tell that he knew what I was. After a moment he stood to his full height and nodded sharply. "Very well, Cornelia. I'm going now."

"Farewell." I curtsied.

He smiled at my mock-formality and bowed before turning to the dirt trail that lead out of town.

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><p><strong>What do you think? Review!<br>**

**-Scarlet**


	6. Chapter 5: A Chat with my Uncle

**Thank you, greysister22 for showing some interest in this story.**

**Here's the next chapter.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: A Chat with my Uncle<strong>

_October 28__th__ 1789, midnight_

_Somewhere in Pennsylvania_

_I cowered in the dark oak forest, hugging my knees to my chest. My hands shook even when I held them tight. The crescent moon offered little illumination to the cold autumn night, but the stars burnt brightly in the midnight sky. Owls hooted quietly from treetops; crickets serenaded the heavens._

_I jumped up quickly when a foot stepped on a twig loudly. In panic, I ran._

_Arms caught me and held me back, and I started to scream until I realized whose arms they were._

"_Lakota!" I hissed, sinking to my knees. I saw his white teeth smile through the dark night. "Did you see them? How many are there?"_

"_I do not know; countless." Lakota's smile vanished, and he frowned. "Quee has stayed to lure them out," he said, and then I realized that there were other wolves surrounding us. "We will defend you during your return to the village; their feet are swift and they'll reach here soon."_

"_But, Lakota," I protested, "I want to help you fight! I can –!"_

"_Ssshh." He held up a hand, and I fell silent. He sniffed the air, and I copied him._

He was right; there are many.

_His eyes were bright with bravery, and he pushed me southwest towards the village. "Run, Cornelia. Fast!"_

_I obeyed. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me, but it wasn't fast enough. The vampire scent got closer and closer the farther I ran._

_Suddenly, something hit me. It felt like running headlong into an oncoming train, and it knocked the breath from my lungs as I hit the ground. It pinned my legs before I could act. I forgot all of Quee's and Lakota's combat training when I saw his bloody red eyes. I screamed louder every millimeter it got closer to my neck. I thrashed hard, and finally I broke free! I flipped away to safety… but too late. Pain erupted in my shoulder and my throat burned with my cries. Venom boiled my blood and stung my cells, and then I felt him take a mouthful of my life-giving blood…_

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

"Corneliaaaaaa! Yooohooo!"

I shot upright, panting. I ripped the clothing off my bloody shoulder and... _A scar? But –!_

I nearly fell off the small bed as I took in my surroundings. _The Featherbed... no vampires... no enemies. _Shaking my head vehemently, I forced myself to come back to the nineteenth century. I looked at the crescent-shaped scar on my collarbone and sighed heavily. It wasn't the first time that I'd experienced that same memory through my dreams. That's what all my dreams were – memories.

My whole body was covered in a cold sweat, and I shivered as I pushed the quilts off myself. My pale legs shimmered lightly, and my head jerked up to behold the perfectly blue sky out my window.

"Cornelia! Are you in there?" Martha shouted from the hall.

"Yes!" I groaned.

"The day is awaiting, dearie! 'Drop your dreams; rise as the sun'!"

Martha had taken to inventing her own proverbs over the past eight days I'd stayed at The Featherbed. Only her soups kept me asking for more.

The wooden floor felt like frozen ice when I put my bare feet on it. After wrapping a quilt around my shoulders, I quickly slipped on my socks and shoes. I leaned down at the hearth and stuck my finger in the semi-warm ashes there. Shuttering, I stood to get dressed for the day.

Smoothing my newly-finished green smock, I walked down the hallway and descended the stairs. That green dress was the pride of my life. "Hello, Martha," I sang, skipping past the counter.

Her forever-flushed cheeks dimpled when she smiled. "Well, I declare! After all the other guests finish breakfast and _gone_!"

I giggled affably and took my usual seat. "Oh, Martha," I sighed dramatically, using my finest noble accent. "You've only waken me from the sweetest dream…" Why did I have such an affinity for _lying_?

"My, my, dear lady. Do tell, I say!" she exclaimed theatrically, flitting to my side with a bowl of cold soup. It was creamy potato soup, with the potatoes I'd helped her peel the previous evening.

We had invented our own tradition of bantering in the morning. I was fast becoming friends with Martha Brown. "_Well,_" I began, "I dreamt of my love. My _true_ love!"

She gasped into her hand and began scrubbing a table with a damp rag. "Gracious me! How was he like, dear lady?"

"Why…" On perfect timing, Mister Wells came out of the door under the stairs, which I had leaned was his private quarters and office. "Why, he was...!" I looked back at Mister Wells and pointed dramatically, pretending to faint upon the table. Martha and I giggled into our hands as Mister Wells watched innocently.

"Have I just become a part of some joke?" he asked offhandedly. A small smile broke on his face when we simply continued to laugh.

"Go-od morning, M-Mister Wells," I said between chuckles. Martha struggled to gain her composure by pretending to drop her rag.

"And to you, Miss Cornelia." No one had queried after my surname, and I hoped to keep it that way for as long as possible… as I didn't have one. "And a fine one it is," he continued, straightening some papers and placing them behind the counter.

"Indeed, yes," I agreed, looking out the window at the blue sky again, still smiling. _I'll have to take an umbrella if I'm to go out._ The day was Saturday, and Mister Stockton had told me that I had no need to work on that particular day of the week. However, I would appear strange if I simply stayed _indoors_ all day.

"Caleb? Are you going out?" Martha called after her brother as he took his hat from the stand.

"Yes, I need to post this right away." He held up an envelope. "A good day to you, ladies." He tipped his head as he closed the door behind himself. The fire flickered with the wave of cold the door had let in. Apparently the weather wasn't as mild as it appeared to be.

After silently finishing my entire bowl of soup in five spoons, my hands froze when I had the bowl halfway to my waiting tongue. _"Yes, I need to post this right away."_

"Martha?"

"Hmmm?"

"Who's Paul Whittier?" I asked, picturing the letter that sat under my bed next to my leather pouch of coins.

She laughed harmoniously. "Why, he's the senior physician at the clinic, Cornelia."

I deadpanned. I was very familiar with the small doctor's office that they called a "clinic." The "peaceful" vampire's scent went to and from it every day. When I didn't need to sleep, I snuck out of my north-facing window at night to hunt. Many times on such nights, I crossed his scent in the woods. Either _he_ was avoiding me too, or I was more lucky than I thought. I had no clue what a vampire was doing in a doctor's clinic, but I knew it was no good thing. _Blood hoarding, mutilation, doctor "assisted" suicide…_

"Why do you ask, Cornelia?" Martha asked, bringing me from my musings. "Are you going to see your uncle?"

My white lie had spread around the town like wildfire. Gossipers and chinwags were prattling about it behind my back everywhere I roamed. Thus, I had devised a cleaver story to excuse my complete disregard for my "uncle." Since I discovered that the demon lived very far out of town, I claimed to have wished to live closer to town. _Yes_, I had spoken with my uncle; _yes_, he had given his consent to my current residence at The Featherbed. An elaborate falsehood, but it was all I could do to guard _his_ identity as well as mine.

I looked up at Martha as she took my empty dish. She was still waiting for an answer.

"Yes, Martha. I suppose I will."

As I returned to my room to retrieve the note, my plans were dashed when I remembered the weather. Even if I managed to reach the clinic, the demon would probably not be there. On the prior Wednesday, when he usually worked, the sun had prevented him from coming into town. That had been the day that I tracked his scent to the large house in the forest on the border of town. After glimpsing the southern face of the vial lair, I had run back to Hoquiam with all due haste.

_Though it would be better to go there when he's not, I suppose. Maybe some clouds will come later..._

I set the envelope addressed to "Peter Whittier" in the sun-filled sill of my window, and sat down on the bed to work on my newest sewing project. I had bought ₵2 worth of white cotton for a nightgown. I'd even secured some lace trim for the hems and bust. I pulled my white thread through the fabric... in and out and in and out.

I helped Mister Stockton at the General Store every day from seven o'clock 'til lunchtime, except for the weekends. He paid me fifty cents each day, which was an overly generous sum. I had one dollar and fifty cents saved in my leather money pouch. I had already made my weekly payment of ₵70 to Mister Wells, and had splurged on some caramel chews and peppermint sticks at Mister Stockton's. I had refused when he offered half-price for employee's, and he had laughed at my staunchness.

But what I had my eye on the most was the pocket watch at the glassblower's. The owner, one Mister Elijah Timmins, was a master glassblower and metal-worker. The shop's name ("Timmins' Glassworks") did not elude to his other merchandise. He had glass cups and figures and panes, as well as metal locks and hinges and gadgets. His young apprentice, Nathan Cummings, the tavern owner's son, was deft with soft metals. He was also the designer of the object of my infatuation. The light silver pocket watch and chain in the front window caught my eye every time I walked by the storefront. It had an intricate molding on the face: tall majestic pine trees stand on a high cliff face, overlooking the stormy billowing ocean, fish jumping here and there between the graceful waves. It was $12.

By the sun, it was noon by the time I finished my nightgown. I tried it on, and was very pleased with my work. I had just started stitching the lace onto the collar when Martha knocked at the door.

"Come in, Martha!" I called, picturing her surprise when she heard her own name.

The door opened, and Martha waddled in with two fire logs in her arms. "How'd you know it was me?" she asked, her rosy cheeks turned up in a smile.

I set my needlework aside and stood to help her with the cold fireplace. "You knocked thrice; only you would knock so meekly." I couldn't imagine her appreciation of the fact that I could smell her rose-petal scent through the heavy door.

"Oh, Miss... I digress..."

After helping to stoke the fire and complimenting my fine sewing with the nightgown, Martha offered me some lunch. I declined, favoring to eat in my room. She left to help the lunch crowd of mill workers from the surrounding camps. Most of the workers favored The Featherbed's fine menu and friendly service over the tavern's brusque atmosphere.

As I settled back into my lace hemming, I glanced out of the window. Some puffs of white clouds were drifting overhead, but that didn't necessarily mean it would rain. _If I were outside, I would smell it on the wind if it were coming._

Not able to resist temptation any longer, I put my supplies away in the wardrobe and slipped the envelope into the front pocket of my smock. I would walk in the shadow of the buildings on main street while the sun was out. There were many things I still hadn't seen in Hoquiam, and I knew I could find something to keep me out of the sun.

I took a deep breath of the cold, moist, late morning air and set off. As I walked by the Tack and Bridle shop, I head the pounding of a hammer on an anvil. As I walked by the General Store, I heard Mister Stockton selling a pound of raw cinnamon. I wondered if I should buy some new material for another dress… or maybe a cloak for the cool weather. _I'll need a pattern... Mrs. Weaver doesn't have any that I can purchase._

The smell in the small shop was of parchment an ink. High, book-filled shelves meandered through the tight space, and I traveled through the dark maze to find the checkout counter. A man in a very fancy, purple suit sat behind it, his chin perched on his fist with his nose in a book. It was entitled _Letters from a Farmer in Pennsylvania to the Inhabitants of the English Colonies. _I remembered very well when the pamphlet was published by John Dickinson.

"Hello, sir."

The man was very surprised by my sudden presence, and be bumbled his apologies as he half-closed his book. "Hmph, yes, how can I help you?" By the way his _h_'s slurred and his _s_'s dragged, the man was French.

"Yes, sir. I'm looking for a book on sewing patterns."

He motioned to the bookcase on the back wall with a lace-cuffed hand. "There should be several guides in that area, young lady. Talk to me once you find what you're looking for."

"Excellent. Thank you, sir."

"Hm, hm... no trouble at all."

I walked to the shelf and knelt at the bottom. Several titles caught my interest: _Felling the Frontier: A Guide on Timbering,_ _Hairstyles for American Women of 1800,_ _A Study: Post-War French and Indian Relations,_ and _The Guide to the Northwest_. However, the next shelf up held the item of my search _The Seamstress's Helper._

"Excuse me, sir," I said, taking my find back to the counter. The man glanced over top of his book. "How much is this volume?"

"All medium-sized books are $3, Miss."

I tried to hide me surprise. _Who knew books were so expensive?_ "O-Oh. Thank you, then. Good day."

I left the shop with a frown. _I hate being poor. _I walked along the very edge of my shadow until a reached the end of the street. Then, I turned around and started again.

It wasn't until the forty-seventh turn that clouds came out to cover the sun. And then, it was only a thin cover of white clouds. Sighing at my chronic misfortune, I set out across town to the clinic. When I reached the church's street, I caught _his_ scent. It always lead to and from the clinic, but I could tell that the trail was fresh. He was taking advantage of the clouds, just as I was.

My fingernails were digging into the palms of my hands as I stood in front of the small doctor's office. His scent was all over the small white house; from the small stone path, to the blue wooden door. I could hear voices from inside, but I couldn't pay attention enough to decrypt them. My mind was screaming one thing and one thing alone. _Run_.

My teeth were grinding against each other as my hand gripped the brass doorknob. It took all my concentration not to crush it. I stared without seeing the red-and-white sign on the door: "Clinic open Monday through Saturday from five in the morning to eight in the evening. No appointments necessary. Surgeon Doctor Paul Whittier residing."

_His_ scent moved just behind the door. The door whose knob I was slowly turning...

"Oh… hello. How can we help you?"

I tried to collect my expression as I address the young human female that had spoken. "Er..."

The room was tiny; like the coat room of a schoolhouse. It looked as though it was the receiving room, as there was a paper-scattered desk where the human sat. Waiting benches were lined along the front walls, and a sliding pine door closed off the next room directly ahead. The human was in normal clothes, with a large white apron tied around her waist. She smiled kindly.

"…Yes, I need to speak with Doctor Whittier."

Her eyes did a quick sweep of my un-harmed body. "Is it about a medical problem?"

I shook my head. "I need to deliver a message."

"Oh. In that case, you could just leave it with me if you like."

I was tempted. _Very_ tempted to simply give her the letter. However, Ephraim's words echoed through my head… _"Be sure that only Whittier gets it. Don't let any other hands touch it."_

"Um… I'd prefer to deliver it in person, if you don't mind."

She seemed surprised. "Yes, of course. You can go back, then." She motioned to the door.

I nodded to her, and smiled reassuringly. "Thank you, ma'am."

A shockwave of foreboding went through me when my hand touched the door. My instincts to flee made me want to crawl out of my own skin to get away from that door. The human looked at me strangely when I hesitated. So, I forced myself to slide open the door and bravely stepped inside.

The room must have been five times the first; the outside of the building hid its true size. Beds were lined up along the walls, head to foot. Three large cabinets stood in the very middle of the room with medical supplies scattered on top of each. Windows circled the entire room, though there was dark brown draperies covering the light. The hard-wood floors were spot clean, and the prominent smell in the room, other than drugs and medicines, was peroxide. However, when stood out from all the other odors in the room… was _vampire_.

I saw the demon immediately: he was kneeling in front of the bed in the rightmost corner of the room. Though he was facing away, I saw that he wore a similar suit to what I'd last seem him in (which was also the first time), and he now sported a cream-colored lab coat over it. A little girl sat on the edge of the bed, holding the hand of the man who stood over her, which I assumed was her father. The girl's blue eyes were filled with tears, and her bottom lip trembled as she stared up at her father. My eyes widened when I saw what _he_ was treating. He pulled quick stitches through the torn, bloody skin of her knee.

I felt my stomach churn.

"Can I help you, Miss?"

I turned to the man walking toward me. He had greying hair on either side of his balding head, and his belly barely fit into his trousers. His spread-out brown eyes reminded me that of a frog. He couldn't have been very much taller than my 5'3".

"Doctor Whittier, I presume?"

He spoke briskly, as though very occupied by something. "Yes. Richard Whittier. The pleasure is mine, I'm sure."

He made me feel uncomfortable. "I have a message here for you." I pulled the note from my pocket and held it out to him. "It is from the Quileutes. I was told you were expecting it."

His eyes brightened with recognition, and he took the envelope quickly. "Thank you. I was expecting it. Thank you for bringing it," he said briskly, turning away before he'd finished. _Perhaps he _is_ very occupied._

I felt immediately liberated. I'd never expected that I wouldn't even have to encounter _him_. I turned quickly for the door.

"Oh, Cornelia! Don't leave just yet. I'd like to speak with you."

I froze immediately. It was _his_ voice that had summoned me. I turned only my head, keeping my body angled towards the door. _He_ wasn't even looking at me, though the two humans were. I heard the male ask who I was, and I heard the demon explain that I was his relative, and then I heard the man recall that he'd heard that I was in town. _He_ wrapped the girl's stitched leg with a bulky bandage, and told her not to walk for a few days. The father thanked him, carefully picked the girl up from the cot, and walked towards the door.

The girl leaned against her father's shoulder, still fighting tears. The man was obviously worried about his child, and he merely nodded to me as he passed. The door slid shut unusually loud. The demon faced away towards the bed as he rolled up some spare gauze.

"Carlisle, I need to post something straightway. If Mrs. Parson calls, make sure she stays 'til I return."

"Of course, Doctor Whittier. Farewell."

Doctor Whittier walked by me again, not noticing me at all, stuffing some papers into a new envelope. Then, half turning, "Ah, yes. Thank you again, young lady. Good day to you."

"Good day," I whispered, not really caring if he head me. My eyes were stuck on the demon, who was making a note on the paper that sat on one of the cabinet tops.

The entire atmosphere changed in a matter of seconds when we were alone; it became charged with tense energy and circumspection. I noticed for the first time the ticking of the pocket watch that lay near _his_ inkwell, and the gentle patter of rain that had begun on the windows. Twelve candles hissed from their spots on the walls, in groups of four around the room.

I watched his amber-colored eyes track words on the page as he wrote.

Then, he set the quill down, and straightened. I flattened my back as well, though it did little for my intimidation output. Or lack thereof. He looked at me for the first time, and I looked back. We were both motionless for several long moments, and the wind blew the rain heavily against the house. I waited for him to make the first move, my muscles poised for anything and everything.

Suddenly, with near-silent footsteps, he moved closer. My ankles ached from holding myself there, and I tried to keep my face void of fear. He stopped about five feet from me, and even at that distance I had to look up at his eyes. Those caramel eyes of his stared down at me, completely devoid of any emotion.

"I've heard a rumor," he said abruptly, startling me, "that my niece is in town."

I swallowed dryly. My voice shook, betraying my neutral expression, "W-Well... I... I've heard that as well." This was the moment I'd been dreading; what I had pictured since the first time I told the lie.

I'm sure I misconstrued the small smile that ghosted his lips. He continued, speaking purposely slow, "I'm sure you're aware of the inconspicuousness I wish to keep in Hoquiam."

I nodded slowly, solemnly.

"And you're familiar with the reason for that desire, are you not?"

I nodded again, sharply and surely. "I am."

He sighed then, very quietly, and the human gesture surprised me. _Does he confuse himself with them?_ "Then _how_, Miss Cornelia, do you suggest we proceed from our current situation?"

I turned my chin up, matching his formal tone, "Is the situation so unacceptable the way it currently is?"

"Miss Cornelia, you forget that I have a 'family member' in town that the residents expect me to support."

"Perhaps she will fare well on her own, sir."

"It would be irresponsible of her care provider to abandon her in such a manner."

"Perhaps she no longer requires a care provider."

"A seventeen-year old girl who has just traveled from Boston?" he countered. His tone questioned my sanity.

"Eighteen," I amended, becoming indignant.

"Nonetheless," he retorted. "Why is she _here_?"

I balked. I didn't have one for that – I didn't even know the answer myself. Yet, I stood my ground with stubbornness and pride. "That's _not_ of your concern."

He took one confident, broad step forward, and my façade nearly shattered. His voice was cold and curt, "I beg to differ."

I bit my lip hard to keep from retreating. "_Doctor Cullen,_" I addressed him harshly, using his title for the first time. "What do _you_ suggest?"

He blinked – another human exercise – and said nothing. _What strange world had this demon emerged from? _

I felt anger fill me, and felt a will rise up from somewhere within me. "A more important question would be _your_ purpose here." A will to fight. "Why are you a doctor? Why do you walk among _them_? And why are your eyes that _absurd_ color?"

His posture became more and more stiff with each question. The muscle in his jaw worked as he nearly glared down at me. I could tell he was fighting to keep his carefully-cultivated composure. "Perhaps this is not the best place for those answers." He spoke through gritted teeth.

"No. Perhaps not."

I turned on my heel and promptly left the establishment...

Scared out of my mind.

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><p><strong>I have some finishing touches to put on the next chapter. Review and inspire me!<strong>

**-Scarlet**


	7. Chapter 6: The Aversion

**Thank you, scerena83 for your interest. It is much appreciated.  
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**Here's the next chapter; hope you like it.**

**-Scarlet  
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><p><strong>Chapter 6: The Aversion<strong>

_November 28th 1813, 11:45pm_

_Hoquiam, Oregon Country  
><em>

I sat on my bed with my dark-brown flannel cloak wrapped around my shoulders, reading my new novel by candlelight. The flame flickered in the pitch-black room of The Featherbed, dancing off the pages of _Oliver Twist. _Three of my hard-earned dollars went into the purchase of that book, so I would never tire of reading it… even if it was my seventh time through.

My room was sparsely filled with my random acquisitions. An iron teakettle sat near the hearth, steaming with the fragrance of the black tea leaves I bought from Mister Stockton. In the wardrobe, a new set of fur-lined boots sat next to my old lace-ups; my old purple dress from the East hung next to my finished nightgown on the clothes bracket. A new batch of peppermint sticks sat on the table next to the bread Martha served with dinner. My half-finished red satin sewing project was laid over back of the chair next to the fire, with_ The Seamstress's Helper_ below it on the seat. This time, I was making a floor length, three layer gown for the cold winter that had settled in. I planned to buy white fur for the collar if the weather allowed the following morning.

I raised the cup that I had clutched in my hand to my lips, but found that the liquid was gone. Hopping down from bed, I tiptoed to the hearth in my stockings, and poured some more tea from the kettle. There was only half a cup left.

After bookmarking my place with a fork, I set _Oliver Twist_ aside and took up my sewing.

It had been a full month since my discourse with the gold-eyed demon. I had been successful in my campaign to avoid him during those weeks. However, his scent sometimes wandered farther into town than merely the doctor's office. And I knew that he was tracking me just as I was him, because his scent sometimes wandered into my hunting grounds in the forest. _What_ could he could possibly be doing? _Setting traps, trying to scare me…_

In addition, I had often sensed the feeling of… being _watched_. I could feel eyes on me when I brought wood into the General Store from the woodpile in the back alley… or when I sat in the tailor shop, taking knitting lessons from Millicent… or when I dawdled in front of Timmins' shop, pining over the shiny watch in the window. Was _he_ messing with my mind? _Learning my habits, my vulnerabilities…_

It was Friday night, so I wouldn't have to work in the morning. I hadn't eaten Martha's shepherd's pie just so I could hunt that night. I had made a decision: since _he_ was so curious about me, I'd do a little surveillance of my own. I knew, from past investigation, that the demon _left_ for long periods of time every other Saturday (which was his time off from the clinic), starting Friday night after he left work. I had tried tracking him the Saturday before last, but his scent went so far north that I'd given up. I'd even gone so far that I ran across Titus Black in the Quileute territory. I'd asked him if he knew where the "Cold One" went every other week, but he'd had no knowledge of it.

So… tonight was the night. The night that I sacked his lair.

Of course, when he returned the following Sunday night, he would know that I had been there. My scent would linger, and he would know. But I didn't care, you see. I was _crazed_ by that demon… that demon with gold eyes.

I pulled on my new winter boots, secured my brown cloak around my shoulders, strapped Lakota's dagger under my skirts, and blew out the candle on the table. After sticking a peppermint stick in my pocket for the trip, I gently opened the small window above my bed. I hoisted myself through and dropped onto the large eve on the back of The Featherbed. Closing the window, I jumped the 15-or-so feet to the snow covered ground.

The first snow had been two weeks prior, and it had been piling up to one and a half feet ever since. It had stopped snowing hours ago, but the blizzard clouds still obstructed the stars from view. I landed knee deep in the white powder, with a soft thump. Glancing up, I pulled the hood of my cloak over my hair and ducked out into the night.

After being sure I was far from human sight, I broke into a run. My feet barely touched the snow, and my toes dusted along the top inch. Once I reached the forest outside of town, the snow was shallower and I slowed down to catch a scent.

_He_ had been all over those woods. I had hunted several days before, and had barely missed an encounter with the demon himself. _Stalking me, trying to intimidate me…_

I soon came along a doe and her fawn. I watched them for several minutes, until a stag came along and shooed his family on. I couldn't bring myself to separate them.

After wandering around some, I came along a faint scent and some paw prints in the snow. _Fox… my favorite. _ I pulled out my dagger and followed the trail to a small den. He wasn't home, so I followed his scent even further until I found him. I snapped his neck quickly and made a deep cut in his neck with my dagger. I leaned over the body of the fox and drank deeply until I was satisfied, not letting one drop of the crimson liquid fall to the white snow.

I buried the body and cleaned my dagger in a snowdrift, then set off the demon's vial domain.

The house itself was very humble; the plain wood paneling and high roof peaks were not very noteworthy. However, the sheer _size_ of the two-story dwelling was enough to impress me. _Nearly twenty people could live here comfortably!_ Snow glistened in the clearing around the house, and was piled high against the low eaves of the first-story windows. The cold night breeze made me shiver as I cautiously came out of the forest around the house.

I double checked the scent around the front door; it was hours old. A large overhanging shielded the front entryway from being snowed-in, and I rubbed the ice from the transoms around the heavy oak door to peer inside.

The space beyond looked like an ordinary receiving room. There was a cold, ashen hearth with some quilted chairs and a sofa. A cabinet for coats and hats stood next to a set of French doors, which appeared to lead to the next room. It was all very conventional, which again surprised me.

Crossing my fingers, I reached for the brass doorknob. I turned it slowly, and it found that it was unlocked. Not surprising, since the home was so far from any civilization. I stepped into the receiving room, and the door closed against the threshold with a soft thud.

I glanced around the room; it wasn't furnished very well. The wooden mantle was bare and dusty, and the hearth looked as though it hadn't been used in months. I passed by all this and pushed open the French doors.

The room beyond was an absolute mess, and even simpler than the receiving room. The plain, hard wood floors had rugs and mats of various sizes scattered across it, and the few pieces of furniture clashed with the lime-colored walls. I could barely recognize the room as a parlor/library/study. Three large bookshelves lined the back wall, covered in ten-times as many books that the book shop in town offered. A large desk sat to the right, with half-written parchments and broken quills scattered across the top. And to the left, in front of another dusty hearth, was a large storage chest with three locks.

However, I truly noticed none of this. When my eyes held in such rapt wonder was the object suspended above the impressive, carved mantle. Even though the rest of the room was covered with dust and grime, this piece was not. There on the wall hung a large, plain, wooden cross.

Maybe it was the dark, mysterious house I was in... or maybe the sheer frigid temperature of the room... but when I saw the object above the mantle, I shivered. _What would a creature such as he be doing with an item of such sacredness? Crosses are holy... vampires are not._

I quickly left the sinister dwelling, not bothering to replace the umbrella into the stand that I'd stumbled over in my haste.

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"Did you sleep well last night, Miss Cornelia? You seem anxious..."

I looked up from my bowl of untouched oatmeal, and watched Martha slowly sit in the seat next to me. A small pucker was between her eyebrows; she was worried about me.

I rubbed my eyes to feign tiredness. "Perhaps not... I do feel a bit unrested." But the grey under my eyes was from a different source entirely.

It was Monday, a work day. Mister Stockton requested that I come to work at seven in the morning, to help set up shop before he opened at half past. Sadly, it was two full hours before my shift began. I hadn't slept for days, ever since I'd visited _his_ home. I had laid in bed all night the last evening, staring at the wood paneling of the ceiling. The demon would return that early morning, and come into town for his work at the clinic. _Who could sleep with such horrors occurring?_

"Oh..." Martha frowned, and then brightened with a thought. "Perhaps the day spent working will keep your mind off of it," she said comfortingly.

I gazed at her curiously. She was very perceptive, just like her brother. "Yes, perhaps... thank you, Martha. You're my sanity, you know." I smiled affectionately.

"Aw, Miss." She flushed, standing to receive a guest that had entered.

I forced myself to swallow the oatmeal, not tasting anything at all. I stared out the dim, ice-crystalized window panes at the gently falling snow. The weather was dropping ten degrees a day, and the snow didn't relent one bit. Across the street, a brave soul ducked into the General Store.

I shook the lace cuff off my wrist and took a drink of my warm water. Millicent from the tailor's had helped me scrub all the dirt from my Eastern dress, and mended the sleeves and hem. She charged nothing, claiming that the sight of the style alone was payment enough. The dress had been designed for a corset, but I had never used one. And apparently, to my delight, people in the West did not wear corsets.

"Good day, Miss Cornelia. Do you fare well today?"

Glancing behind myself, I saw Mister Wells closing the door to his chambers. "I fare fine, Mister Wells. I trust your night was peaceful as well?"

"Yes," he said, wiping the frost from the window by the door, "very peaceful." He gazed out at the hazy morning.

"Good morning, Caleb! Did you sleep soundly, brother?" Martha chirped, skipping over to peck his cheek. I never understood why Martha was always so chipper in the mornings. She even had to walk from the apartment above the tailor's to the inn in the cold weather. _Mister Brown must make her very happy._

I couldn't finish most of my oatmeal; my stomach was in knots. My mind was on the demon in the doctor's office. _Will he be angry?_ I could imagine the schemes of revenge he was devising to counter my despicable action. _Will he care?_ I couldn't picture him brushing it off as simply an accident. Because it wasn't an accident; it had been very intentional. _What had I been thinking? He'll hunt me down and - _

"Miss Cornelia, you haven't moved for quite a time... are you alright?"

I jerked out of my thoughts and looked over at Martha_, _who was slowly winding some brown string into a ball behind the counter. She watched me curiously, worriedly.

I popped out of my seat, putting a hand to my clammy forehead. I had sat there for hours. "Nothing! Yes, no... I'm just fine, Martha. Thank you." I stumbled up the stairs to retrieve my cloak, and promptly ventured into the snow-painted landscape of Hoquiam.

Mister Stockton was in an unusually bad moon when I arrived for the day's work. Apparently, his younger brother, Daniel, had gotten into some trouble back East.

"My whole family lives in New York," Mister Stockton told me as I organized the spice rack behind the counter. "They've lived there for years; my grandfather came over from Scotland before the War._"_

"Y-You're Scottish?" I asked as politely as I could. He didn't look it at all.

He chuckled at my surprise. "Scots-Irish, but you couldn't bear witness for one shinny penny. How about you, little lady? How did your folks end up in Boston?"

My hand froze as I put a jar of cinnamon on its shelf. Mister Stockton had never asked about my family in the East, and I hadn't had time to come up with a reasonable response. "I... don't know where my mother was from._"_ I paused, deep in thought. "But my father was from Europe." An extremely vague response - all Americans were from some eastern country.

However, Mister Stockton didn't press the matter, like the gentleman he was.

Martha had been right: work did help keep my mind off _him_. Patrons were few and far between, due to the weather, but Mister Stockton had plenty of work for me nonetheless. But, every once in a while, my eyes would wander to the misty windows where the white snow drifted through the air... and I would wonder if he was in town. If he had found the evidence I left so carelessly at his home. If he was mad or insulted or offended somehow_._

And, worst of all, I wondered if he was wondering about me.

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><p><strong>Review? Anyone...?<strong>

**-Scarlet**


	8. Chapter 7: The Confrontation

**Thank you, serena83, for the first review of this story. I'm glad you like it! Also, thanks to Tedmynameisfred and Soccergirl0388 for the Story Alerts.**

**If you want more Original Characters in _Twilight_, check out my two other stories "Daylight Moon" and "Sweet Cantata."  
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**I wrote this late last night, so mind the typos. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.**

**-Scarlet**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: The Confrontation<strong>

_December 12__th__ 1813, 1:33pm_

_Hoquiam, Oregon Country  
><em>

"Good day. And, thanks again, Misses Weaver."

"How many times must I ask you, Cornelia? Call me _Millicent_."

"Just one more time, Misses Weaver."

I smiled as Misses Weaver waved a dismissive hand at me. Laughing quietly, I exited the tailor's shop into the cold, Sunday afternoon in Hoquiam. The air was dry from the temperature, and the melting snow mirrored the white dome of the heavens. Though the weather had been mild as of late, rumor had it that another blizzard was brewing.

Even though the day was holy, Millicent had made a special exception to the rule and met me at the shop for lessons. I was becoming quite deft with knitting and quilting under her instruction.

I glanced up and down the street nervously before starting out for the inn.

Two steady weeks had passed. My routine had continued very much the same: working for Mister Stockton in the mornings, passing the time with Misses Weaver in the afternoons, and helping Martha with chores in the evenings. My life was predictable and comfortable – something I hadn't experience in my short life yet. I savored it.

I had lived in fear during the week after my escapade at the devil's mansion. I was paranoid; I never slept. Also, I never went into the woods to hunt; so much so that all the gold in my irises had disappeared completely. It wasn't until Mister Wells began gazing into my eyes for long periods of time that I began to hunt again. I was sure that he noticed the difference, and that he was suspicious. What other reason could it be?

The only other deviation from my contented schedule had occurred the past Friday afternoon. A frequent patron of Mister Stockton's was the good Misses Paul Whittier – Eliza Whittier. She was long-winded in her passing conversations with me, and was fond of sharing her "boundless" knowledge of gourmet cooking with any ear that would hear.

So, while taking my usual evening stroll through Hoquiam on Friday, I bumped into Misses Whittier coming home from tea. She complimented my dress and invited me to dinner at her home, which was nestled in the neighborhood in town. Wanting to improve my relations with Mister Stockton's customers, I readily accepted.

I helped her slave over an elaborate three-course dinner in anticipation of Doctor Whittier's return that evening. To my ultimate horror, that had happened to be the specific night that the Doctor had requested his associate, the good Carlisle Cullen, to dinner as well.

The demon and I had sat across from each other in the Whittier's tiny dining room, pretending to be closely related. I'd glared whenever he caught my eye, and his expression had never been revealing. I had spoken only when was necessary, and I'm sure that Misses Whittier noticed my suddenly stiff demeanor. Fortunately, Doctor Whittier had occupied the conversation mostly with work-related things, to which _he_ would comment vaguely upon. I'd noticed that his food had gone untouched, even though he'd complimented Misses Whittier on the duck.

The couple had expected me to leave with my uncle, so our farewells were said collectively. We'd walked together, without speaking, as far as the church lane. Until I couldn't take anymore. With a hasty, one-sided, "Good evening," I had bolted to the inn as fast as humanly visible.

That had been the extent of our encounter. And, for whatever reason, the experience had encouraged him to _skip_ his northern trip for that weekend. Thus, my paranoia that Sunday afternoon. He was in town; his scent was everywhere. Yet, he carefully avoided me.

I quickly returned to The Featherbed, determined to distract myself. _I'll practice the new technique Millicent taught me. That should keep my mind off of him._

But my plans were dashed when I walked through the door.

"Oh, Cornelia! Look who's called!" Martha walked over to me as I closed the door. I tried to keep my eyes on her round, smiling face. I tried to be interested in the brown spoon and dry cloth she held in her hands. But all my effort was demolished when she said her next… three… words…, "It's your uncle!"

My neck turned stiffly to see the only occupant of the dining room. The demon sat at the table farthest the fire (not surprising), watching me with bright gold eyes. _He waited for me. He invaded my home and waited for me to return so he could torture me further. _I couldn't help the flicker of fury that sparked within me. _What_ _impertinence._

_He_ stood, and stepped out from the table. "Hello, Cornelia," he said kindly, smiling with familiarity.

His manner made my skin crawl. "Hello," I said curtly. I forced myself not to push Martha out of the way when _he_ passed by her.

"I thought that we could spend the afternoon together," said the demon. His expression was soft, but his eyes were severe. _He knows that I won't object in front of Martha._

"Of course," I said brightly, forcing a smile. "That will be fine, uncle."

"Excellent. It was a pleasure, Misses Brown." He tipped his head to Martha as he steered me towards the door.

Martha giggled behind her hand. "Likewise, Doctor Cullen. Goodbye, Miss Cornelia!"

I managed a small wave before the demon closed the door behind us. He stepped out from the covered eave of the door, and motioned for me to join his side.

I stood my ground. The pleasantries were over. "What is the meaning of this?" I demanded tersely.

"Please, come along," he encouraged, beckoning once again.

_Vial monster._ "I will not be treated as though –"

Suddenly, he stepped forward and took my elbow in his hand, pulling me along down the street. I would've torn him to shreds right there, if it weren't for all the human witnesses around. "_What do you think you're doing?_" I hissed, too quiet for human ears. "_Release me!_" I would have used my elbow to jab him in the gut if he hadn't been holding it so tight.

He carried on swiftly. "I intend no harm. Please accompany me, and you will find out," he said quietly, glancing down at me.

My posture was stiff as we continued, but to others, it appeared as a casual walk between uncle and niece. I gnashed my teeth the whole way, fighting the urge to fight.

It was in no time at all that we arrived at the end of the street. He proceeded to guide us even further south, and I knew our destination was the stables. _He's going to kidnap me. He'll kidnap me and kill me with no witnesses. _"Stop!" I commanded, digging my heels into the snow.

But I was too late; we had already arrived at a small pasture. The sign in front of the small cottage there read: "Heinz Stables."

"Stay," the demon commanded me.

My mental cognitive ability must have been temporarily impaired, because I did exactly what he told me to. I stayed, fuming. I heard voices on the other side of the house, but I ignored them.

The demon returned, guiding two chestnut houses out of the gate near the cottage. A bald man stuck his head out of the cottage door and shouted, in a German accent, "Alvays a pleasure, Doctor Cuvlen!"

"Good day, Heinz," he replied, waving a friendly wave.

I recoiled in horror. _That human…! What travesties have been befalling this possessed town?_

I stood, gaping, as the demon reined the horses to a two-bench sleigh that I hadn't noticed I was standing by. I looked from the cottage to the horses. "Y-Y-You…"

"Come," I heard him say.

When I turned, he was holding out his hand to help me up onto the bench next to him. I paused for several long moments, contemplating the situation. Then, reaching a decision, I ignored his hand and lifted my skirts to climb into the hindmost bench.

Retracting his hand, he acted as though my deed was ordinary, or expected. He gave a quick snap to the reins, and the two horses took off through the snow. I drew my red, satin cloak closer to my body to trap some heat. With our moderate speed, the cold wind was harsh on my face.

Neither of us spoke.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

The second we came to a stop, I collected my skirts and jumped to the snowy ground. I thought it was cruel that the demon didn't provide his horses with a stable, merely leaving them to the cold lean-to behind his petty home. As he secured the sleigh, I began walking toward the forest west of the house, lifting my feet high above the 18 inches of snow.

I heard his hurried footsteps behind me, and then he was walking by my side. I didn't spare him a sideways glance. "Won't you come in? The weather must be ten degrees."

"No," I answered without pause.

His tone was challenging. "Was my humble abode not pleasing to you the last time you visited?"

I froze as stiffly as the icicles that dangled from the trees. He stopped as well, and I rigidly turned my head to look up at him. His expression was just as I'd imagined it would be: complacent and condescending. "No," I said again, resuming my trudge through the snow.

He followed for a time, until I stopped, half a mile into the trees.

The forest was decked with snow and ice. The bark of trees was crusted with frozen rain, and the branches were weighted heavy with it. Puddles and streams of ice ran here and there through the underbrush, and every perch that a leaf offered was filled with white powder.

I brushed the snow from a large, fallen limb and sat, folding my bare hands in my lap. The white fur of my scarf dusted my chin, and the red satin of my dress and cloak blazed against the white of the snow. I waited patiently for the demon to speak.

His hands were folded behind him, and he paced a small trail to and fro in the snow, about ten yards away. He wore a formal black suit, as he usually did, with a high collar for the cold weather. An deception, of course. His dead hands would never have need for the expensive leather gloves he wore.

Finally, after a few minutes of this, he spoke, "I've brought you here to answer some questions I have about you. And, of course, you may ask me anything as well."

_The nerve._ "Unfortunately, I have _not_ given you permission to ask anything you wish. I will only respond to the questions that I deem worthy of an answer."

This statement seemed to cause him hesitation, but he recovered before I could confirm what I saw. "Very well. I believe my first query is quite obvious." He stopped then, and looked at me very pointedly. "You are not human," he stated.

His words would have been humorous, had his expression not been so somber. "No, I am not," I said. "I am only half-human."

He nodded, and looked as though he'd already known. "Indeed," he commented grimly. "I am also curious as to –"

"I beg your pardon," I interrupted.

He froze.

"I would like to ask you a question now."

He motioned for me to continue.

I took a steadying breath. "Your eyes," I addressed. "Why are they... as they are?"

As he spoke his reply, he seemed proud of it. "I do not hunt the blood of humans as others of my kind practice. I drink the blood that of animals."

I nodded blankly.

"Does this not surprise you?" His tone was assuming.

I shook my head vaguely. _I've known all along, I think, somewhere in my mind._

He paused for a moment. I wondered if he thought I'd perhaps misunderstood his words. Then, "The knife marks?" he asked suddenly.

I was startled. "Wh-What?"

"You are a sloppy hunter – I've seen the bodies of your prey."

I felt a rush of embarrassment when I realized what he was referring to. "Oh... well, you see... my teeth are..." I motioned weakly with my hands. "They aren't..."

Suddenly, his severe expression melted away as he erupted with laughter. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I watched him. He was much less demon-like when he laughed.

I stood, and took several steps towards him. I laughed quietly into my hand. "And now," I said lightly, "another question for you."

"Yes, of course. Forgive me," he said, clearing his throat.

I felt that the conversation had relaxed, at my expense. "You leave every alternating Friday evening far to the north, and return the respective Sunday. Where do you go?" I asked.

He looked impressed that I'd noticed. "There are others that believe as I do in a very northern region of Canada. I leave to visit with them."

I struggled to maintain my composure. This surprised me greatly – that would've been the last thing that I assumed in my speculations. But one thing confused me. "Believe... as you do? What belief?" I asked curiously.

"The belief that human life is precious. That we should strive to protect it, rather than consume it."

I swallowed thickly. His responses were befuddling. "B-But... why?" The idea that a vampire should "strive to protect" human life was very nearly unbelievable; it was absurd.

He smiled, and I began to see some human-like morals in his eyes. "You forget; it is _my_ turn to ask a question."

I hadn't noticed that my curiosity had gone so far. "All right, then... go on."

"How long have you lived?" he asked, and I noticed he'd stepped closer as well.

"I was born of my human mother in 1778. I became this way in 1785, and have been the same ever since."

He nodded in acknowledgement, and I couldn't read his reaction.

"That leads me to the same question. How old are you?" I had never thought of it before, or wondered. He had only been a demon in my eyes. _He still is… isn't he?_

"I was born in London, over one-hundred and seventy years ago. I was changed at the age of twenty-three."

"One-hundred and seventy...," I repeated slowly, deep in thought.

"If it's not too forward, who were your parents?" he asked, continuing our exchange as though his age was petty.

"My parents," I repeated, slowly coming back to myself. My eyes refocused on his curious gaze. "I do not know who my parents were. My father… left me when I was an infant. My mother… died the day I was born." I couldn't come up with any more to say.

"I apologize for my curiosity; you are quite fascinating to me." The small smile on his face was almost ashamed.

"I've never known someone such as you. The ones that I encounter are..." – I grasped for words – "not as _civil_."

He seemed confused by this, but made no further comment.

"Your question," I pondered. I'd run out of things to ask. "How... were you changed? I mean... by whom?"

He answered readily, though it was unwilling. "In my human life, I hunted vampires. I was very unsuccessful, and became careless because of it. I should never have doubted their existence... and that doubt was severely punished one night." He took a breath to continue, and I noticed just then that he hadn't been inhaling and exhaling regularly through our conversation. "I don't know who it was that bit me, because the mob that followed me surely destroyed him after the attack."

_ He was forced into this life; he didn't want it._ "I see. So... you... hunt animals because –?"

His voice was certain. "I do not wish to be condemned for my nature alone. A nature I did not want to accept."

My mind ravaged the information, trying to understand. He allowed me a moment to think.

"I have many more questions," he said presently, "but I shall leave you with just one more for today."

I nodded, looking up from the ground, where my gaze had traveled. By the sun, we had spoken until suppertime. "What do you wish to know?"

He smiled suddenly, and chuckled lightly. "Your surname," he said, amused.

I imaged the amusement with a smile of my own. "I... do not have one. I am simply 'Cornelia.'"

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><p><strong>Oh, my! Has Cornelia come to her senses, or let her guard down?<strong>

**You decide: review.**

**-Scarlet**


	9. Chapter 8: A Human Christmas

**Thank you, ****KickinItUp,**** for the Alert. I'm glad people are clicking, at least!**

**I wanted to get this chapter up today since I'll be busy later, so I hope it's not too shabby. I jumped the gun and wrote about Christmas – oh well.**

**Enjoy this new chapter.**

**-Scarlet**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8: A Human Christmas<strong>

_December 24__th__ 1778, sunrise_

_Boston, Massachusetts colony_

_The snowflakes fell gently down from the heavens, dusting the cobblestone streets with white powder. The hard stone under my feet felt strange, after spending so much time in the forest. People stared at me as they passed, and a young boy made an ugly face from his mother's arms._

_The long sleeves of the white shirt draped over my shoulders dragged on the path behind me. My skin tingled from the cold, harsh weather and my feet felt numb from frost burn. However, just like I hadn't for three full days, I didn't stop walking._

_ Suddenly, a large beast came stomping down the street, baring a human on its back. Startled by seeing a horse for the first time, I stumbled back a few steps and tripped over the long sleeve of my garment. I put my face in my hands and did all that I knew how to do – cry._

_ My voice was high and piercing, and hurt even my own ears. Tears leaked from between my fingers, and fell onto the ground beneath me. When I ran out of breath, the cold air that entered my lungs hurt my chest._

_ Then, a voice said, "Child, where is your mother?"_

_ I didn't understand the words, but they caused me to stop crying. When I looked up at the lady standing over me, my vision was blurry. I raised my tiny fists and wiped the moisture from my eyelashes. "Child where is your mother," I repeated in my young voice._

_ The woman smiled, and leaned down to pick me up. Her skin was warm, and stung against my frozen flesh. I shivered. "You are cold through!" the woman exclaimed._

_ "Cold through," I repeated, my teeth chattering. The woman held me close to her bosom and I nestled into her warmth._

_ "Don't worry. Martha will help you find your mother," she whispered kindly,_

_ My small hands clutched at her shoulders. "M-Martha… m-mother…"_

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

I shuttered awake. The dream left me confused for several moments, until I sat up and realized I was no longer an infant. I rubbed the tiredness from my eyes. _It feels like so very long ago…_

Gasping, I wrapped my hands around my shoulders. Somehow during the night, all the quilts on my bed had fallen to the floor. I shivered as I reached for them, and more so when they felt ice-cold. I wrapped myself in a cocoon and gritted my teeth to keep from shaking. "C-C-Cold-d-d."

Martha was singing Christmas carols when I descended the stairs. Her voice was flighty and winded, but the three guests in the dining room seemed to enjoy it along with me. Breakfast was special for the Eve of Christmas morning: maple soaked oatmeal with butter.

Martha and I, of course, had decked the inn with all sorts of holiday cheer. Beside the fire, a tiny evergreen sat perched in a water-bucket, with holly and colored string upon its branches. We'd even collected pine needles to burn in the fire for the peaceful aroma. A miniature nativity made of glass sat on the counter, and the sunlight through the windows caught the glass in rainbow gleams.

I ate as fast as I could.

The sky was blue when I emerged into the cold morning. The fresh snow that had fallen during the night glistened in the sunlight, and I heard the singing of carolers coming from the church. However, the day was Friday; a work day.

I pulled the hood of my cloak further up with my gloved hand, as I crossed the sunny street. For once, I was fortunate for the cold; I could wear a box over my head in the sun and still have a valid excuse. When I entered the General Store, the scent of peppermint and holly berry greeted me in a joyful embrace. I inhaled deeply as I closed the door against the cold.

There were ten or eleven patrons milling about the shop; all appeared to be waiting for Mister Stockton's assistance. My manager stood behind the counter, scribbling rapidly with a quill as the young lady he was helping dictated some desired goods. I untied the cloak from my neck and hung it on the receiving stand next to the door. I slipped my hands from my knitted mittens (designed by Millicent Weaver) and hung them by their strings as well.

"Might I help you with something, madam?" I asked the elderly woman who stood by the spices. She had a perplexed look on her face as she scrutinized a list of ingredients in her hands.

"Yes...," she said slowly. "I don't believe you have what I'm –"

"Miss, could you take the payment for this?" A frustrated-looking man had stepped forward and interrupted her. "I need to get to Port Angelis right away and –"

I put up a hand to stop him. He was quite rude. "I'm sorry, sir. Mister Stockton takes all the bills."

I old woman looked up at the man as though he'd just committed murder. Her voice was patronizing. "Excuse _me_, young man. I didn't know that _your_ order was so much very important than the rest of –"

"Ma'am, sir, I'm sure Mister Stockton will be with you any –"

"Cornelia!" Mister Stockton had spotted me in the crowd, and was waving his hands over his head.

I poked through the large volume of people in the tiny shop, up to the service counter. I ducked through the opening and popped up next to Mister Stockton. "Good morning, Mister Stockton. I'm here for work."

He let out a mighty laugh, and the man he was servicing gave him a quizzical look. "Cornelia, I wouldn't have you work on Christmas Eve! Whatever gave you the idea? I'd thought it went without saying!" He spoke loudly over the droning voices in the store, turning to reach one of the high shelves behind the counter. It was the brown sugar. _He should know that you need the stool to reach the brown sugar._

"But sir," I protested, walking over to the step-stood in the corner. I dragged it over to the shelf he was trying to reach. "I've never seen the shop so busy; I should be here to help you!" I raised my voice, too.

"Nonsense! Oh, thank you," he said, stepping up to reach the sugar. "I won't have you spend your holiday a-working! You should go enjoy the snow, you know." He untied a pound of the product and slid it toward the irritated man at the counter. "That'll be a dollar and fifty cents, my good sir."

"_Hardly_, Mister Stockton," I said grouchily, crossing my arms. "What would I have to do with the _snow_?"

The man moved away from the counter when he finished paying, and the impatient gentleman from before stumbled up. "John, I need this right away. How early can you –"

"One moment, sir." Mister Stockton turned to me. "Cornelia, I must insist that you leave before I raise your paycheck."

I pursed my lips. _ I don't think I can handle those kinds of demands._ "Very well, then, Mister Stockton. I will see you on Monday morning."

He smiled after me as I ducked under the counter again. "That's a girl, Cornelia. You enjoy your holiday, now!"

I returned his sentiment, and left the shop once again. The carolers had progressed to the streets, and the air rang with the notes of "Oh, Come Ye Merry Gentlemen."

I walked slowly back to The Featherbed, pulling my hood to hide my face from the sun. No gleam of polished metal could be seen from the glassblower's down the street… someone had purchased my precious pocket watch two weeks before.

I passed by the inn, thinking about what I could occupy my time with. _I hadn't planned on not working today... Carlisle will be meeting me this afternoon..._

Since the confrontation in the forest, I had learned more and more about the vampire with gold eyes. We met nearly every day, and spoke of many things. Of course, our conversations were hardly appropriate for mortal ears, so it was important that we hold our meetings in seclusion. When we weren't sitting by the fire in his parlor/library/study, we were walking slowly along the quiet church street.

It was strange to speak so freely with someone – a vampire, no less – but every word between us flowed like water. I told him of Lakota and his pack of werewolves, and he spoke of his boyhood in London. I even admitted that I'd thought of him as a demon for all those weeks, and he confessed that he'd thought I was some twisted figment of his imagination come to haunt him. We spoke of the unchanging will of the human race, and the politics of the frontier.

I'd listen with rapture when he'd told me about his transformation. How he'd dragged himself to a potato cellar for those painful days, just to be hidden from human sight. How he'd swam across the English Channel, finding that he needn't take a single breath the entire way. How he'd immigrated to America not long ago, hoping to find others "like himself" here. He told me of the coven of animal-feeders to the north, and that he'd known the man named Eleazar when he was in Europe. He had practiced medicine for almost as long as he'd lived, and had nearly desensitized himself to the lure of human blood.

I found myself becoming more and more fascinated with Carlisle Cullen.

Our conversations often drifted to me, my life, and my curse. The curse of my blood that called to his kind like a siren. He told me that my scent affected him more than an ordinary human's did, and I noticed that he often didn't breath when we sat in his parlor/library/study. His comments such as that made me feel uncomfortable, so I would quickly change the subject whenever it came up.

So, I reflected upon all of this as I walked down and up the business street of Hoquiam. _He won't be in town; the sun's out. _I wondered if it would be rude to impose on his residence that morning. I had never called upon him without an invitation before. _We _did_ make plans today... perhaps I'll blame my rudeness on the sun._

The crowd in the dining room had cleared out by the time I reached the inn. I quickly ran upstairs before Martha could noose me into another verse of "Hark! The Harold Angels Sing."

Once in my room, I opened the wardrobe and pushed the hanging garments aside. Reaching behind some piles of extra material, I found small brown paper box I had stashed there. I'd taken much pride in my gift to Carlisle, and I was sure that he'd approve.

"I'm going to visit my uncle, Martha," I said, interrupting her cheerful song.

She continued anyway, "Born that man no more may die! Born to raise the sons of earth; born to give them second birth!" and waved to me from beside the fire. Martha had been very accepting of my sudden interest in my "uncle." _Or is it just because she doesn't want to stop stirring the curry?_

I left town discreetly, and jogged through the forest to Carlisle's house. The sun warmed the ice on the trees, and drips of water and slush could be heard throughout the wood. Come nightfall, all that melted snow would become ice.

As I approached the house, I picked his scent in the trees; it was fresh. I suspect that he'd hunted recently, and I followed his trail right to the snow-covered house. He answered the door before I'd knocked twice.

He tried to hide his shock. "Cornelia, I hadn't expected you… Forgive my surprise," he said, smiling as he held the door open.

I rushed inside so he could shut the cold out. "I should apologize, Carlisle. I know we promised to meet in town, but the sun was out and Mister Stockton gave me the day off and Martha is doing nothing but singing carols, so I thought that perhaps it would be best for me to come here instead of you coming..." I stopped my ramble, out of breath. "So, I'm here." I smiled.

He chuckled softly as he closed the door, and turned to me. "It sounds as though you've had quite the Christmas Eve morning."

"Yes," I agreed, slipping the gloves from my hands. As I walked into the parlor/library/study, I was surprised by the fire crackling in the hearth. _He hadn't expected me, yet... _"And how was your evening, Carlisle?" I asked, trying to distract my mind from speculation.

"Uneventful," he replied, taking the cloak from my shoulders.

I nodded in thanks and stepped forward to hold my hands toward the fire. _No, perhaps he only lit it for convenience sake… it appears as though it was kindled hours ago..._ "Is that so?"

"Indeed. Unless you consider a brush with a black bear to be an event; the lady nearly tore my arm off in fear that I may hurt her young."

The imagery he created caused me to smile. "Yes, I do believe that counts as an event."

A freight train could have passed between us in the space he left as he moved by me. He took a seat on the sofa before the fire, exactly where he usually sat. "So, what excitement has left you so dauntless on this clear day?" he asked pleasantly, folding his hands.

It took me a moment to remember exactly why I had come. _I had a reason, right?_ "Um... oh, this!" I reached into the large pocket in my skirts and extracted the gift. I stood and walked to the sofa, depositing the small box on the seat next to him. I sat on the opposite end, leaning as far away as I could onto the armrest.

Intrigue flashed in his eyes as he picked up the present. He looked at me and grinned. "I believe the tradition of gift-giving is reserved for Christmas _Day_," he emphasized.

I folded my hands in prayer, pleading impishly with my eyes. "_Indulge_ me, Carlisle."

He smiled playfully, and pulled the brown string from the box. As he neatly folded the brown paper to the side, I felt a rush of nerves. _What if he doesn't like it? What if he thinks it's too –?_

"Brilliant!" He pulled the small, homemade trinket box from the package, and held the painted glass up to the light. "How did you make it?"

I was almost offended that he assumed that I made it. _Does it look that bad? _"It's not very creative, I know. It's only stained glass from Mister Timmins; I told him were I'd like it cut, and I soldered it together with my hearth." I laughed in remembrance, rubbing my fingertips together. "I nearly burnt my fingers."

He opened the tiny silver hinge and let the sunlight from the window illuminate the glass. The tiny triangles and squares of greens, reds, blues, and yellows came together in the form of a vivid Christmas star. Only our eyes would be able to perceive the kaleidoscope of rainbows that the light converged to create.

"It's dazzling... you must have spent much time crafting this. I can't thank you enough." He took his eyes away from the curio only to smile gratefully to me.

I felt heat rise in my cheeks. My delight was as boundless as my empty money pouch. "You flatter me, Carlisle. I'm glad to have pleased you."

He seemed distraught at my humility. "I'm afraid the gift I planned for you is not as inspired," he said meekly.

I giggled into my hand. "I'm surprised that you thought of it," I said offhandedly, then regretted it. "Sorry," I apologized, immediately contrite. "That was discourteous."

"Not at all," he said, setting my gift aside to reach into his coat. He pulled out a similar, smaller brown box. "To be quite honest, I hadn't expected such a gift from you either, Cornelia."

A moment of awkwardness passed between us. "I suppose each of us is a lot more human than the other thought."

A small smile ghosted at his lips. "I suppose so…" he trailed off, holding out his gift.

Our fingers brushed when I reached to take it, and I quickly withdrew my hand. I felt a blush creep into my cheeks as I untied the string. Pulling away the paper revealed a plain, black box. I glanced up at Carlisle's patient smile before lifting the top off. There sat the pocket watch from Timmins' window.

"Carlisle –!" I exclaimed, gazing at the shinning metal face. "I thought this had been purchased long ago!"

He laughed at my glee. "It was; I wanted to wait for the right occasion."

The information shocked me. _If he was the one who bought it, then that was two weeks ago… days before we began speaking kindly with each other… so why…?_ "It's lovely… I've been wanting it since the day I saw it. Thank you." _Had he only done it to aggravate me? Had he seen me admire it and wanted to take it from me? _

His smile was endearing. "You're very welcome. Merry Christmas Eve, Cornelia."

I mentally shook myself of tainted worry, and smiled back with good cheer. "Merry Christmas, Carlisle."

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><p><strong>Do you like the turn their relationship has taken? Tell me in a review!<strong>

**Suggestions and thoughts are all welcome.**

**-Scarlet**


	10. Chapter 9: The Request and the Behest

**Thank you, cocogirl198, ShnieseAce, FleurSuoh, and XoXMaximumculleNXoX, for the Alerts/Favs. You guys are awesome!**

**Sorry if there's some errors; I didn't want to delay an update just to proofread. Enjoy this new chapter.**

**-Scarlet**

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><p><strong>Chapter 9: The Request and the Behest<strong>

_March 19th 1814, noon_

_Hoquiam, Oregon Country  
><em>

"Come now, Martha – you jest."

"No, dear, not in the slightest! I've only just been to Doctor Whittier last evening!"

My denial was fruitless. "Martha... are you really, _truly_ with child?"

Her brown curls bounced when she vigorously nodded. "Yes, yes! A thousand times _yes_!"

I pulled her into a hug to hide the moisture in my eyes. "Really, Martha? Really?"

That winter of 1813 had melted away with the snow, and the early spring of 1814 was upon us. Storm clouds mourned over Hoquiam nearly every day, and the grass became greener by the hour. I now worked at the General Store full time (with full pay of $5 a week), and I now apprenticed young Eleanor Wilson (the young girl I'd first seen in the doctor's office) in the art of sewing.

The days blurred together and the nights faded away until it was the week before Mister Stockton's forty-third birthday. The gift I had been planning was a free day of work, but as the twenty-fourth of March drew closer, I began to have second thoughts. I had been mulling over new ideas over breakfast when Martha sprang the news on me.

"I don't believe it!" I finally exclaimed, collapsing back into my chair. "What did the Doctor say?"

Martha sat down across from me with a dreamy expression on her face, holding her chin in her hand. "Shamus and I have wanted a child for many years now… Doctor Whittier said that we may have finally done it!" She blushed, and her smile was contagious.

"Oh, Martha..." I reached across the table and put my hands on top of hers. "I'm so glad for you."

"Thank you, Cornelia," she laughed, looking more relived now that I'd calmed down. "I couldn't be happier."

Just then, the door opened to reveal Mister Wells. He took off his hat and coat, and was hanging them on the stand when I scurried over.

"Mister Wells! Didn't you hear the news? You're going to be an uncle!" I said excitably, clasping my hands to my chest in delight.

He smiled down at my excitement, and then glanced over at Martha. "I heard last evening. It is _excellent_ news." His smile wasn't as enthusiastic as his forced tone.

Something was dreadfully wrong. "Mister Wells, what's amiss?" I asked, concerned. My brow furrowed as I studied his hidden expression.

He looked at me for a moment before saying, "Not a thing, Miss Cornelia. All is well."

Mister Wells' distress continued to elude me all afternoon. Carlisle and I had plans to meet that evening, when he was finished with his work at the clinic. Being a Saturday, I had nothing to spend my time doing. I lounged in the dining room with Martha, discussing if the baby would be male or female, and what respective names it would bear.

Soon, there was a break in the torrential downpour of rain, so I excused myself for a walk. The air outside was warm, unseasonably warm, and humid. The loose soil of the road sunk under my feet. I was walking back from the church when I was accosted by the good Misses Whittier, who had just exited the General Store.

"Oh, _Cornelia_! You heard about Martha, didn't you? Of course you did, yes, of course. Isn't it splendid? Sweet Martha will make a _wonderful_ mother, I suspect." If there was one thing Misses Whittier excelled in, it was gossiping. I often wished that Doctor Whittier didn't converse with his wife about his patients so frequently.

After Misses Whittier bid me a good day, I spotted something in the window of Mister Stockton's shop that I hadn't noticed before. The poster was written in his crude script, with the bold side of a quill: "March 21st Spring Festival; Begins at sundown; All are welcome; Hosted by Stockton's General Store."

"Mister Stockton!" I called, closing the door behind myself. The shop appeared empty, but I sensed him shuffling around in the supply closet behind the counter. "Mister Stockton?"

"Cornelia – good. Please help me with this," he said, his voice muffled by the half-closed door.

I opened it fully and pocked my head inside. He was trying to be a hero and lift a sack of potatoes from the top shelf. I pushed the small step-ladder closer to the shelf and stood on it to help him lower the sack. "Mister Stockton, I'm here about –"

He grunted as he carried the potatoes out of the closet, and set them on a clear space on the counter. "Yes, Cornelia, your order still isn't in yet; you'll have to come back next week... like I said yesterday."

"No, sir, I'm not worried about that." I blushed, remembering I'd ordered a new dress from our supplier outlet back in the East. "I was wondering about the sign in the door… the one about –" I stopped when he let out a jolly laugh.

"Marvelous, isn't it? I put it up after you left on Friday; I wanted to surprise you. A way to celebrate the new crop season, _and_ to gain reputation for the shop!" He laughed deviously as he cut the cloth sack open with the blunt end of a package knife.

I smiled uneasily. "I-It's on Monday, isn't it?"

Mister Stockton shot me a suspicious glance as I ducked back under the counter. He could always spot my moods. "That is the first day of spring, little lady."

"Er, that's right…" I smoothed the front of my dress. "And... two days away..."

"Don't worry, Cornelia," he said in understanding. "I know it's a little short-notice, but I'm sure that someone good and kind will escort you." He winked, and smiled when I stomped my heel on the wooden floor.

"I beg your pardon, Mister Stockton! That isn't at all what I was worried about! I was... I was just..."

"I know, I know. Now _leave_ before I give you that Monday off, young lady." His eyes were playfully severe.

He made me smile, and I seemed to forget my sudden nerves for a moment. "If you insist, Mister Stockton."

I was half-way to the door when a thought occurred to me.

Over my shoulder, "You aren't going with anyone, Mister Stockton?" I asked with fake-innocence. Though Mister Stockton had no family in Hoquiam, he was on first-name-basis with many young, single women there. Any lady who could catch the eye of the sincere, successful shop-owner was a lucky bride.

I heard his smile through his words. "The host cannot escort a guest to the dance, now can he?"

"'_Festival_,'" I corrected, smiling. "Good day, Mister Stockton."

"G'day, Miss."

I spent the rest of the day worrying about the coming festivities. I had only one formal dress, which was pale pink with white ruffles. A forced buy; Millicent's ranting about the sheer material complimenting my complexion was frenzying. Martha was surprised about the news of the festival (as I'm sure most of Hoquiam would be went they walked by the General Store), and began complaining about forcing Shamus into a nice suit.

I sat and watched the rain against the windowpanes until it was dinnertime. "I should go, Martha. I promised to meet my uncle at half past five."

"Oh. But, don't you want dinner first?" she asked, looking up from the pot of soup she was stirring.

"No. Thank you, though. I'll see you tonight, Martha." I waved as I closed the door, stepping out into the misty evening air. _I wonder why Carlisle told me not to have supper… he must be planning something._

The walk to the doctor's office was wet and dirty. Mud splattered on the toes of my shoes, and my face was damp with the heavy moisture hanging in the air. The lack of wind could've been a good or bad sign; the rain may stay for a while longer, or the clouds have drained themselves already. I began to feel self-conscious about my appearance as I stepped into the warm atmosphere of the clinic. _Left over from today's stress about Monday, no doubt._

"Is there anything else, Doctor Whittier?"

"No, Carlisle. Be sure to post that before morning and everything should be taken care of."

"Yes, sir. Have a good evening."

"Until the morning, Carlisle."

Carlisle smiled when he found me waiting for him by the door. "Is it half past already?" he asked lightly.

I drew the pocket watch from my skirts and glanced down at the clock face. "Quarter 'til, dear uncle. _You_ are overdue for our engagement." I smiled teasingly.

"My profoundest apologies, Miss Cornelia," he said, bowing formally. "Would you excuse my unpunctuality?" He offered a hand, smiling.

I sniffed and brushed his hand aside. "Depending upon how long you intend to keep me in such suspense as to the nature of this meeting. I am very hungry."

His smile wavered, and he quickly glanced down at my feet. "Do you intend to wear those?"

I looked at my feet, this time truly insulted. "Are they unfit?"

His expression grew humorous once again as he took my elbow and guided to toward the door. "To an extreme, my dear. You must change them into something more suitable."

Carlisle waited in the dining room in The Featherbed as I dashed upstairs to change. I suspected that his implication had been for something more weathered, or durable. My thoughts wandered to supposed scenarios in which my thin-soled strap shoes would be inappropriate. So much so that I didn't hear one bit of the conversation taking place on the first level.

I descended to stairs in my ankle-length boots, with a heavier shawl around my shoulders. I was just in time to see Carlisle shake Mister Wells' hand, and glance suspiciously at me.

"Is there trouble?" I asked cautiously, walking over to them.

Mister Wells laughed nervously. "O-Of course not. Enjoy your night, Doctor Cullen. Cornelia." He nodded to me and walked away.

I took Carlisle's offered arm and followed him out the door. "What did Mister Wells want with you?" I asked quietly, once the door closed behind us.

The sky was darker than need be, due to the thick cloud cover. "Caleb requested something." A slight crease formed between his eyebrows as I looked up at him.

"As a friend, or as a patient?" I never prodded for his patent's worries like Misses Whittier did, but when it came to Mister Wells...

"As... a suitor for my niece." He looked down at me, and he smiled slowly when realization dawned on my face.

"Mister Wells...?"

"Would like to escort you to the festival on the twenty-first," he finished, watching my expression.

My footsteps slowed. "Well... what did you say, Carlisle?" I demanded.

He chuckled softly at my alarm. "I said that you would be delighted if he asked you personally," he said gently. "I would like to leave the final decision to you, though I strongly advise that you accept."

I was affronted. "_You_ strongly advise me? As a doctor, or as an uncle?"

"As a _friend,_" he emphasized. "Caleb is a fine man."

"Yes, yes, a fine man to be sure. But...!"

"He is fond of you, Cornelia. Please tell me you've noticed all these months." His tone was borderline taunting.

_All these _months_?_ "I-I… Of course I…"

"My only behest is that you consider it, Cornelia. As a friend, I ask you."

"Carlisle," I stopped him, and I noticed we were almost to the stables. "He is _human,_" I hissed.

Carlisle was surprised. "Why, of course. The problem is...?"

I sighed. Whenever such complications arose between species, Carlisle ignored them. _He thinks of our races too closely together. _"Easy for _you_ to accept, perhaps."

"Yes, perhaps," he said indignantly.

After Carlisle saddled his two chestnut stallions, he helped me onto my usual one and we set off out of town.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

"Will you tell me _now_?" I asked, leading my horse into the closest stall. Carlisle had paid Mister Stockton a reasonable sum to construct a small stable on his property that January.

He closed the door and lowered the block to shut it up for the night. "Have you not guessed already?"

I shook my head at both his question and the dew that had settled on my hair. "A hike to the mountain country?"

Carlisle gestured for me to follow him towards the house. "Close, but wrong again." He smirked. "You _did_ mention that you were hungry."

We spent the rest of the evening and much of the night hunting in the forest around the house. And for some reason, thoughts of the spring festival never passed through my mind...

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><p><strong>Sorry this chapter is shorter, but I'm diligently working on the next: "The First Day of Spring."<strong>

**Did you recognize what important month and day it was from New Moon? Just a Twilight trivia tidbit for you guys...**

**Will Cornelia get close to the lonely Caleb Wells? Will Carlisle stand idly by? What will Cornelia wear to the spring dance? All this and more in Chapter 10. (Wow, I sound like such a dork... review to help me feel better!)**

**-Scarlet**


	11. Chapter 10: First Day of Spring – Part 1

**Two updates in one day? Double prizes!**

**Enjoy this "hot off the press" chapter.**

**-Scarlet  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: First Day of Spring - Part One<strong>

_March 19th 1814, just before midnight_

_Hoquiam, Oregon Country  
><em>

_"I know that you carry a dagger with you to hunt… but is there a reason for it being silver?" Carlisle shot me a playful glance as we prowled through the underbrush._

_ I clutched my sliver dagger in my hand and scowled. "No," I snapped._

_ "I suppose the shape of your earrings tonight is simply by coincidence as well…"_

_ I fingered the polished surfaces of my cross-shaped earrings. "It was a gift from Misses Whittier, Carlisle. You of all people should know how Protestant the Doctor is."_

_ He chuckled quietly, holding a branch up for me to walk under. "Of course. How silly of me."_

"_And whom are you to speak such nonsense, when your father's cross hangs above your fireplace?" I taunted shamelessly, smiling._

_His smile faltered. "A good effort, Cornelia. However, it so happens that _you_ are the true vampire slayer present."_

_I frowned, hearing the deeper meaning. I was used to his teasing, but I wondered why he was especially animated that night. "Do you think of your past often, Carlisle?" I asked quietly, in all seriousness._

_He understood my disposition immediately. "Yes," he said. "But not so frequently as of late. I have too many preoccupations in the present for such thoughts."_

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

I awoke naturally, as though my dream had thought it best to end there. The relived memory left me to thoughts of the past evening. _How very strange... I don't dream such recent memories often._ I stretched stiffly; I hadn't slept very long after I left Carlisle's, and hadn't slept for the several past days. Then, I remembered the _exact_ day. _Mon... day...?_

I sat up immediately, and reached for the pocket watch that hung from my bedpost. The time was twenty past seven. I was already late for work at Mister Stockton's.

I tore off my night-things and threw my light brown work dress over my head, securing the tie for my white apron around my waist. I didn't bother fixing my hair up, so I quickly tugged the tangles out with a horsehair brush.

"Goodbye, Martin!" I called to the man behind the counter, grabbing a roll from an abandoned breakfast table as I went past. Martha had taken ill the past evening, so Martin – the night-watch – was temporarily taking her shift. I was almost glad that I didn't have time to sample his crude vegetable soup. The two guests having breakfast stared at me strangely as I ran out the door.

"Sorry I'm late, Mister Stockton. I overslept." I straightened the shoulders of my apron as I walked up to the counter.

Mister Stockton was scribbling out an order on a piece of paper. "Hu? Seven o' clock already? My, my..."

I tried not to be irritated with his un-businesslike manner, and began straightening the items on the east-wall shelf. "I'll stay longer this afternoon, to make amends for it."

"Alright, then. You can help me close up early; I want to have some spare time to organize things outside."

I'd noticed the large space set aside in front of the post office for the festival. Since the ground was wet from the near-constant rain, a temporary platform had been set up for the guests. The sky was covered with clouds, but the _Poor Richard's_ forecast said that the end of March would be mild that year.

I started clearing away the random items that cluttered the service counter, as Mister Stockton bent down to file away the order in the post-box. When he stood back up, he was smiling at me mischievously.

I nervously unwound some string from a ball of yarn, just to wind it up again. "Is there something I can help you with, Mister Stockton?" I asked formally.

He continued smiling, and went about collecting some scattered papers and straightening them. "Have you spoken with Caleb recently?"

I instantly knew what he was talking about. "Um... the day before last." I recalled how Mister Wells had most carefully avoided me the previous day. I had viewed our relationship as comfortable and platonic before Carlisle had told me about his interest in me. _I guess that Mister Wells has changed his mind after all... maybe I'll ask Carlisle to accompany me tonight._

"Oh, I see... that must be the reason, then." His eyes darted toward the front windows.

"The reason for what?" I followed his gaze; nothing was there.

He rose his eyebrows and turned away. "I'm sure you'll find out eventually..."

I spent the whole of the afternoon nervously glancing out the front windows. The day lagged, and few customers came and went. I remembered that I had tutoring lessons with Eleanor Wilson when her mother, Mary Wilson, came to pick up her package of stationary she'd ordered. Mister James Wilson was the town's carpenter who worked a private business from his home.

"Yes, Misses Wilson. I'll be by at two o' clock for Miss Eleanor's sewing lesson."

Mary Wilson was a conceited, self-centered woman who was born in New York. Her cold blue eyes narrowed at me, and her haughty atmosphere made me shuffle my feet. "Very well, Cornelia. Remember, we agreed to payment _once_ every Friday."

I bowed my head. "Of course, ma'am. Until then."

It wasn't until half past eleven that one Caleb Wells cautiously crossed the threshold of the shop. I became very focused on sweeping the floor when he came in, and turned away as though I hadn't noticed his entry.

I heard his footsteps stop at the counter. "Good afternoon, John."

"How do you do, Caleb?"

"I fare well. And you?"

"When the weather's fine, I'm fine."

They continued to exchange small talk for the next several minutes, during which the floor became cleaner than it had been in weeks. I passed behind Mister Wells and bowed under the counter to replace the broom in the storage closet.

"Hello, Mister Wells," I greeted.

"Greetings, Cornelia. Are you well today?"

"Very well, sir. Thank you."

I ignored Mister Stockton's meaningful gaze as I passed. I found that the dustbin in the closet was full, so I stepped out the backdoor to empty it. When I returned, the atmosphere in the shop had changed; I'd missed something big.

"Cornelia, may I speak with you?" Mister Wells requested, motioning for the door.

"Of course." I nodded, and followed him out into the moist afternoon. The sky was clearing, but the air was still heavy with rain.

When Mister Wells turned to me, his face was hard with an emotion I couldn't identify. His heart pounded in his chest, and his obvious nerves made me slightly uneasy myself. "Forgive me; I know this is unexpected. Your uncle has given me his consent already, but he preferred me to speak with you." His words were rushed.

"About what, Mister Wells?" I feigned casual innocence, hopping to alleviate his tension. I folded my hands patently; I'd never known Mister Wells to be so anxious before.

He took a deep breath through his nose. "May I escort you to the festival tonight?"

I couldn't help but smile at the concerned earnestness on his face. "Of course, Mister Wells. I would be flattered."

The strain drained from his face, and was replaced by content relief. "I'm very pleased, Cornelia." He offered a hand, and placed a soft kiss on my knuckles when I accepted it. I had to suppress a shiver at the warmth of his lips. "I shall see you this evening."

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

After Eleanor's lesson, I returned to The Featherbed. Martha invited me to her flat above the tailor's to prepare ourselves for the festivities. Millicent rejoiced when she saw that I carried the pale pink dress under my arm when I arrived. The three of us crammed into Martha's small bedroom to get ready.

"You're absolutely _certain_ that you feel well?" I asked worriedly, for probably the twentieth time.

Martha scoffed, and checked her hairnet in the mirror. She pulled the flower wreath forward, so it would be seen from the front better. "Of _course_, Cornelia. Last evening was only a spell. Doctor Whittier said that those will come and go..."

"When my sister was with child, the same thing happened to her very often," Misses Weaver said, tapping some powder onto her cheek with a puff.

I still wasn't entirely convinced. I pulled on one of my white, elbow-length gloves and straightened the fingers. "Well... my uncle promised to be there. It's a good thing, too, just in case anything –"

"Stop worrying about me, and worry about yourself for once! Look at your hair!" She stood and grabbed my shoulders, whirling me around to sit in her vanity seat.

My reflection had half of her hair up in an intricate braid, and the other half over her shoulder. I raised my ungloved hand and giggled at the amusing sight. Millicent stepped into the reflection and scowled as Martha fought a smile.

"Perhaps this is how women in Paris wear their hair now," I said sarcastically.

However, when it came to style, Millicent was an unstoppable force. "Don't be silly, Cornelia. Let me finish for you while Martha _gets her dress in order._" She shot the last part at Martha. If it weren't for Millicent, Martha and I would be blind to all fashion.

"Yes, ma'am." Martha mock-saluted, hurrying over to the blue dress laid out on the bed.

I winced when Millicent began pulling the other side of my hair into small braids. I watched her tie them off at the ends, and twist them up into the crest of braids at the back of my head. The pins she secured them with pocked my scalp uncomfortably.

"Cornelia!" Millicent gasped, once she had finished. She stood back to view her work. "You are absolutely stunning!"

I didn't understand the fuss she was making, and I turned my head from side to side, just in case I'd missed something extraordinary. My cheeks were flushed as Martha's were, due to the stuffy temperature of the room. The loose, ruffled sleeves of my pink dress came down to meet the top of my white gloves, leaving only a strip of pale skin visible. The lacy collar hung low on my neck, showing the top of my thin collarbones. The diamond earrings that Millicent had lent me sparkled in the candlelight, and the bare skin of my neck looked paler than usual. My hazel eyes stood out against my pale complexion, and the small flecks of gold from my hunt with Carlisle highlighted my dilated pupils. Fortunately, the dressed flowed past my ankles, shielding my awkward, black strap shoes from view.

I looked up at Millicent. "Am I?"

She reached to straighten the garland of false, pink tulips that was stuck on top of my cluster of hair. "Yes, dear. You are beautiful."

Millicent's dress was deep emerald (she always wore dark colors), which matched the unique color of her eyes. The only piece of jewelry she wore was a silver locket, which she _always_ wore. It bore a small picture of her deceased husband, Charles Weaver. The two had moved to Hoquiam to escape disapproving families, and had opened the tailor shop together. Millicent now lived by herself in a small house in town, and she rented the upstairs living space above her store to Shamus and Martha Brown. She was a kind old soul, and my life would have been much less brighter without her.

Just an hour before the festival, I returned to the inn with Martha to eat. We sipped light broth while Martin boorishly received the sparse customers, making sure to keep ourselves presentable. Mister Wells arrived home about ten minutes later, and smiled immediately when he saw us.

He walked over and kissed Martha's forehead. "You are stunning, sister."

She giggled into her napkin daintily. "And you, brother! So handsome..."

I, too, was surprised by his appearance. He wore a formal brown, tweed suit and carried a brown bowler hat at his side. His hair was more in order than I'd ever seen it, and his smile was more genuine than gold.

"Cornelia." He stooped into a bow. "Radiant and charming as ever," he complimented, taking in my full appearance when I stood.

I felt heat fill my cheeks as I curtsied. "Thank you," was all I could come up with. "You look dashing."

"Will you accompany me on a stroll before the events begin?" he asked, smiling.

I gave Martha a worried glance, and she shook her head. "Stop _coddling_ me, Cornelia. Shamus will be by for me – have no fear." She laughed at my stubbornness.

"Very well. I shall be delighted," I said to Mister Wells, taking his hand. I was thankful to be wearing gloves; he couldn't feel the chill of my skin through the satin material.

I looked up at the fading, grey sky as we walked slowly down the main street. Our arms were not linked – my fingertips nearly hovered over his forearm – but it felt too close. I focused on the regularity of his breaths and each of our footsteps to distract myself from that fact.

"Cornelia, I must thank you for bearing with me so. I know I haven't made my intentions quite clear to you."

I swallowed my unease and looked up at him. His face was as severe as it had been outside the General Store that afternoon. "There's nothing to worry for, Mister Wells."

"Please, you may call me 'Caleb' if you wish."

"Alright, Mister... er, Caleb." The name sounded strange on my tongue. "Though, to be honest, I was taken very much by surprise when my uncle told me of your intent."

"Forgive me," he said, penitent, "I have been foolish these past months."

_Again... 'these past months.'_ I pondered my reply for a long moment. "So have I, perhaps. That being, there is nothing to forgive." When I looked back up at him, he was smiling. I returned it.

Just then, a figure rounded the church corner. It was Carlisle, in his usual black suit, carrying his medical bag at his side. His gaze found us, and his course veered to intercept.

"Ah, my uncle," I said, slowing my steps to meet him.

Mister We – ...Caleb tipped his head when Carlisle reached us. "Doctor Cullen," he greeted.

"Cable... Cornelia." His eyes pierced mine when he said my name. An emotion hung there that I could not place, and my brow furrowed as I tried to conceive it.

"Will you be attending tonight, Doctor?" Cable asked cordially.

Carlisle's eyes lingered on me as he answered. "I... fear not. I am occupied with my duties at the clinic."

A withheld a sharp comment, and I silently glared. _He promised to come last night! He promised!_ I felt as though I could burn a hole in his head with the heat of my eyes. He met my challenge, and even had the audacity to smile at me.

"Oh, I see." Caleb seemed suspicious. "Have a good evening, then," he said, sensing my discomfort.

"Enjoy your time, Cornelia," Carlisle said warmly, and it sounded like more of a death-threat than a well-wish.

"I shall, uncle," I said stiffly, throwing daggers after him with my eyes.

We carried on in our opposite directions swiftly.

"Is there a problem?" Caleb asked in concern, once we were out of "supposed" earshot.

"No," I piped, trying not to let my irritation slip into my words. "I'm just disappointed that my uncle is so busy with his work. Sometimes he makes the mistake of prioritizing it over other things." I hoped that Carlisle heard my implication.

"They say that that's the sign of a good doctor. I've never seen someone as dedicated as Doctor Cullen before."

"Yes, that is true," I agreed crossly. "Dedicated to _humanity_."

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><p><strong>I humbly beg for your forgiveness. If the title of this chapter didn't imply the cliffhanger enough, than I am doubly-sorry. I promise to upload the conclusion with all due haste.<strong>

**What's **_**up**_** with Carlisle? Throw me your thoughts and theories in a review!**

**-Scarlet**


	12. Chapter 11: First Day of Spring – Part 2

**Thank you, Pfachgirl and tedmynameisfred, for your amazing reviews! Sorry this chapter is really short; I'll update soon.**

**ENJOY.**

**-Scarlet  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 11: First Day of Spring – Part Two<strong>

_March 21st 1814, just after sunset_

_Hoquiam, Oregon Country  
><em>

Mister Stockton made an announcement to begin the festival, and a lively trio of violinist struck up a song for dancers. Nearly every person in Hoquiam had showed up for the merriment, and the crowd in front of the post office buzzed with conversation and laughter. Caleb and I mingled through the gathering, chatting with people that stopped us on our way.

Many men clapped Caleb on the shoulder when they looked at me, and many woman brushed my cheek when they looked at Caleb. Behind our backs, I heard people whisper things such as "About time!" and "What an excellent match!"

"Would you like to dance?" Caleb asked, after nearly half an hour.

I looked from the crowd of dancers to the crowd of non-dancers. Martha and Shamus two-stepped when they should have waltzed, and Martha giggled when they bumped into other couples. Mister Stockton pestered Misses Weaver to dance, and the Whittiers graced the floor with their elegant style. The Wilsons hung by the edge of the group, swaying while their daughter looked on in delight. The tavern-keeper danced with his quiet, second wife, and young Nathan Cummings wooed all the young ladies present.

My eyes memorized each of their movements.

"I have never danced," I informed my companion, smiling coyly.

"Have no fear; I have danced little, with no genuine success thus far." His blue eyes twinkled with excitement, and I had no choice but to accept.

I put on my best smile as we entered the flow of dancers. My good humor had been polluted when Carlisle broke his word. The very reason I'd accepted Caleb's invitation was because Carlisle had promised to attend. Though I enjoyed his company, being so close to Caleb put me in a very uncomfortable position. I had relied on Carlisle's presence to sustain me through the evening.

Caleb put his hand lightly on my waist, and held my left hand gently with the other. He was very much taller than me, so I rested my hand on his arm rather than his shoulder. He slowly took the lead, and I followed confidently.

"I thought you said that you hadn't danced before," he laughed, pleased with my form.

I glanced around at the other guests. "It's easy to take up once you've seen it, I suspect."

The pace of the waltz was too lively for conversation, so I did my best to forge a cheerful expression.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

"Did you enjoy your evening with Caleb, Cornelia?" Misses Weaver asked, sipping her tea.

I leaned back in my seat, and gazed out the dark windows of Misses Weaver's home. Martha had retired from the late hour, and Caleb had already bidden me goodnight. Millicent and I were reviewing the events of the evening over a soothing cup of tea. The rain had cut the festivities short after two hours, but it had been a success for Mister Stockton nonetheless.

My eyes watched the raindrops on the window as I responded. "Yes, I did." I took a sip from my teacup.

"Pardon me, Cornelia, but... did he say something to upset you? You seem distraught somehow...," she mused, holding her chin as she observed me.

I forced a quick smile, but Misses Weaver saw right through it. She gave me a heavy look, and I sighed. "I'm not upset by what he said... I am only... surprised."

"What did he say?" she asked gently.

I leaned forward on my elbows and hid my face in my hands. "He's asked to court me."

Misses Weaver gasped, and then began to laugh. "I knew you were meant for each other. What has your uncle said? Will you accept his courtship?"

I knew I could tell Millicent anything; she wasn't a rumormonger. Nevertheless, I felt my heart slip when I thought about Caleb's offer. He was kind and chivalrous, and would make a fine husband for any woman... but I wasn't just "any woman." I was something _else_ entirely.

"I have not spoken with my uncle," I finally said. "I do plan to, before putting any more thought into the matter."

She laughed at my formal manner. "Picture it, my dear! Caleb would make you very happy."

"Yes," I said impassively. "Very happy..."

I bid Misses Weaver a good evening and borrowed an umbrella for the weather. Lightning struck in the distance as I passed the church, and my mind wondered to the past. _I met Carlisle on a night much like this. _I looked down the street, half-expecting to find a dark form walking toward me on the opposite side.

I lit the hearth in my room when I arrived, and took off my damp garments in order to let them dry. Caleb's human scent lingered on my dress, and I frowned at the memory, gazing at the gentle licks of fire in the hearth.

"_Your uncle has given me his consent already, but he preferred me to speak with you."_

"_May I escort you to the festival tonight?"_

"_Cornelia... Radiant and charming as ever."_

"_...I know I haven't made my intentions quite clear to you."_

"_I have been foolish these past months."_

"_...I've never seen someone as dedicated as Doctor Cullen before."_

I pulled on my boots before I spared the matter further thought, and laced them quickly in the light of the fire. I threw on my green dress from the past autumn, and secured my brown cloak around my shoulders. As always, I gently opened the window above my bed and jumped out into the rain. I didn't bother taking my hair down from its elegant arrangement.

The run was wet and cold; my clothes were saturated by the time I left town, and I was shivering when I entered the forest. My sharp sight helped me avoid obstacles such as trees and bushes in the dark woods. I rubbed the rain from my eyes when it clouded my vision.

I banged my fist on the oak door when I arrived, but he didn't answer quick enough. The doorknob compressed under my grip, and the lock shattered when I turned. I flung the door open and stepped inside, dripping all the way.

"Carlisle!" I shouted, stomping into the parlor.

Everything was dark; the room was empty. When I went to expand my search to the second level, I found him frozen at the top of the stairs.

"Cornelia," he greeted soullessly. "Is there trouble?"

"No," I said through my teeth, gripping the slippery wood of the handrail with my wet hand. I pulled myself onto the red carpet of the first step and glared up at him. "Why would there be trouble?" I insisted sardonically.

He blinked, and took two steps down. "May I be of any help?" he asked.

My temper flared. "You _could_ have helped me earlier, but the time is now past."

"To what are you referring?" His gaze matched his tone: detached.

My voice wavered with my impatience. "Do not tease me, Carlisle. You _know_ why I've come."

He descended the rest of the staircase slowly, until he was on the ground floor. Still standing on the first step, he and I were eye-level. "I'm sorry for deserting you, Cornelia. It was for the best."

My grasp splintered the handrail. "You are not forgiven. I must know the reason."

His jaw set, and his eyes were cold. "You will accept none of my excuses," he said .

"Try me," I challenged firmly.

"My self-restraint wasn't strong enough for the amount of humans congregating," he replied smoothly.

"Wrong," I hissed. "Your self-restraint would have been strong enough had they all sliced their wrists under your nose! Anything else?"

His patience thinned. "Why are you so severely upset over the matter, may I ask?"

"Because..." My words failed me. "Because..."

He continued to stare vacantly.

"Because I..." Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes. "I _cannot_ love a human!" I thundered; my eyes were wide with rage.

His emotionless eyes flickered with compassion for half a moment. And, in that moment, I saw the intense conflict that raged behind his composure. "Then, do not," he said simply, and his voice was carefully controlled.

"Please, I beg you, at least bring yourself to _care_. I thought our relationship was made of sterner stuff than this!" I motioned between us, referring to the indifference that loomed.

"Certainly, the trouble must be that I care too much," he said grimly.

His words confused me, and I gleaned little or no comfort from them. "I do not understand you, Carlisle Cullen. Perhaps I never will." I turned away from his empty gaze.

I didn't spare myself the trouble of pulling my hood up as I stormed out into the tempestuous night. I pushed myself hard against the cold wind, fighting the despair and loneliness building in my chest. Tired from lack of sleep and the events of the evening, I fell into a shallow sleep.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

_"Oh, Carlisle... I believe I'm becoming too dependent on you," I said, stroking the soft material of the petticoat he'd given me._

_ He smiled, an amused glint in his eye. "How can such a thing be when I've supported you so little?"_

_ "I don't know...," I mused, pulling my arm through one of the sleeves. "Perhaps I never will..."_

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><p><strong>Sorry if the last part is confusing. Remember, Cornelia only dreams her memories. So, basically, when there's italics, it's a flashback.<strong>

**I hope this chapter answered some questions about Carlisle's distance, or at least, arose many more. The next chapter will explain all.  
><strong>

**Your reviews keep me writing!**

**-Scarlet**


	13. Chapter 12: Fork in the Path

**Thank you, FleurSuoh, for the patient review. Also, thanks to twilight 208 and zfrida1 for the Alerts.**

**This is where it all comes down. Sorry if there's mistakes - I'm uploading as I go. Hope you like it.**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: Fork in the Path<br>**

_September 28th 1814, 9:12am_

_Hoquiam, Oregon Country_

Carlisle and I drifted further and further apart after that night. Weeks passed without a word between us, and the situation reminded me of my first few months in Hoquiam. When he was the "demon." The only difference between then and now was the pang I would feel in my chest every time we passed silently by one another.

My courtship with Caleb progressed in a near-unmoving state. I kept the thought of marriage far from my mind, and he was too gentlemanly to press our relationship more than I preferred to. It helped that Caleb was so apprehensive about Carlisle's lack of supervision of our wooing. He had kissed me only once, softly on the lips... four months ago.

Soon, autumn was drawing near once again. Caleb had stopped charging me to stay at The Featherbed, due to our relationship, and I stopped working at the General Store to help Martha at the inn more often. She was heavily with child, and Doctor Whittier had predicted that the child was due before Christmas.

I lied in bed far after the sun had risen, staring at the ceiling of my room. _What's wrong with my life? I should be happy, like Misses Weaver always tells me..._ The days had lagged and the nights had dragged... so much so that I found myself considering leaving Hoquiam. Each day seemed like a chore.

It was depression; I had heard of it before. It was a new concept to me... I'd know despair, sadness, and destitution... but depression was a whole new thing entirely. Depression was the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that you're not good enough for life... or that life's too good for you.

I feigned sleep when there was a quiet knock at the door, and several moments later, it opened with a soft creak. I knew it was Caleb, by his familiar scent. He stepped to the bed and quietly sat on the edge. I felt a feather-light warmth on my cheek, and my eyes fluttered open to see his blue ones not an inch away.

"Good morning, my dearest. The hour is late."

I smiled and stretched, pretending to be inhibited by sleep. "Is it... morning?" I giggled and leaned up to tap the tip of my nose to his. "What a pleasant way to be awakened..."

He smiled and collected me into his arms. I leaned against his chest as he carried me downstairs. Rain pattered against the windows, and the dining room was seasonably empty. The dark sky did not portray the late morning hour.

He sat me on the bed in his chambers, and took a seat at his desk in the corner. Waiting for me to "fully" wake up, he busied himself with his business letters. So, I watched the ceiling in his room instead of my own, listening to the scratch of his quill against the paper.

After twenty minutes, I sat up. Caleb was too focused on his writing to notice my quiet footsteps over to his desk. I wrapped my arms around his neck from behind, and rested my chin on his shoulder.

He set down his quill and reached back to stroke my cheek. "Do you feel well, Cornelia?" he asked softly, brushing his fingers down my neck.

I sighed, leaning into his touch. "I am not sure, my love. I may be taking ill; my countenance is foul," I lied easily. I linked my fingers with his, and pulled his hand from my neck to brush my lips to his knuckles.

He turned and stood, wrapping his arms around me fully. I leaned into him and breathed in his scent. _So human... too human._ Just like every other time we were close, I felt a guilty churn in the pit of my stomach.

After holding me there for a full minute, Caleb said softly, "Dress yourself, dearest. Perhaps we can cure your unhappiness with some gaiety today." He kissed my forehead.

I robotically fastened the white waist bow of my dark lavender dress, watching my vacant expression in the wall-mounted looking glass in my room. I twirled my hair into a loose chignon, and secured it at the nape of my neck with a white ribbon. I looked closer and blinked my glossy, fully-hazel eyes; I hadn't hunted in weeks.

Caleb loved me desperately – it was obvious in his eyes and his actions. I wasn't sure how I felt at that point... I'd not been in touch with my emotions for so very long. _I haven't had any strong feeling lately... Not since –_

The dusty pocket watch could be heard from under the bed, ticking away each quiet second from under the floorboards there.

By the time I returned downstairs, Martha had arrived. She sat with her chair pulled out from the table by the fire (her stomach was too round to fit underneath), and she smiled when I appeared. "How are you this morning, dear?"

I could tell by her tone that Caleb had told her about my mood. I glanced heavily at Caleb's averted gaze before answering her question. "I am fine, Martha. And you?"

She sighed and rested her folded hands on her belly. "I become more tired everyday... but Doctor Cullen said that that's normal by about this time."

I nodded and crossed the room to the hearth. "You've spoken with my uncle recently?" I asked as off-handedly as I could. I pulled the pot of soaked oats over the fire to heat for breakfast.

"Yes, two evenings ago... I wonder what's made him so dismal as of late," she pondered, thanking Caleb for the glass of water he handed her.

I slowly stirred the oatmeal with a long wooden spoon. "Perhaps it's the weather..."

"We should visit with him today, Cornelia," Caleb said brightly, stepping into my empty vision. He touched my cheek and smiled, hoping to contract one upon my lips as well. "Have morning tea, perchance?"

I swallowed thickly, and nodded, recalling the frequent "visits" we had with my "uncle." _More apt to call them glaring contests in which Caleb is the arbitrator._ "That sounds lovely, Caleb." I reached up and took his hand from my face so I could turn away.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Misses Weaver had invited us to tea that specific day, so we stopped in at the clinic to bring Carlisle along. Millicent gave me her usual sympathetic glance as she brought us tea and scones. The cinnamon from the fresh-baked delicacy and the herbs from the hot tea wafted past my nose without scent.

It felt as though my mind wasn't entirely connected to my body. That I'd perhaps left it behind somewhere.

We thanked Misses Weaver, and then apologized when she had to leave for an appointment she'd forgotten about. I sat next to my beaux and let him hold my hand under the table, not seeing what I stared at so intently. Carlisle sat across from us, and his lips moved to form words I didn't particularly choose to hear.

Carlisle lifted a teacup to his lips, but his throat did not contract when he pretended to drink. "Oh, yes, the weather is very unseasonable for early autumn," he said, in answer to a question I hadn't heard Caleb ask.

They continued to prattle about nothingness, and my thoughts wandered from the dull conversation at hand. I began imagining things as they used to be, when everything made sense. When Carlisle met with me on Sunday afternoons to waste my boredom away. When he insisted on my keeping close to him when we hunted late at night. When he teased about the way I talked, and told me that he'd heard Duchesses with less couth. When we sat outside his house on sunny days, discussing what people would think if he carried an umbrella to work.

"– leaving Hoquiam? Whatever for, Doctor?"

My daydream fell short when I heard those words. My head snapped over to see Carlisle. His eyes flickered to my face before he answered. "Small settlements are cropping up all over the coast. Since I am unneeded here due to Doctor Whittier's presence, I am considering relocating somewhere that I may be useful."

The words seeped through my subconscious and alarm bells buzzed in my head. _Carlisle's leaving... Carlisle's leaving... Carlisle's leaving...?_

The men fell into some more monotonous conversation then, and my mind ravaged this new information. Granted, my ties with Carlisle had been waning for a while, but I couldn't conceive survival without his presence in Hoquiam. During those estranged months, I had cherished the little bits of conversation that passed between us. I replayed those conversations over and over again in my mind, and imagined better outcomes. Sometimes, I would invent new conversations in my own mind... conversations that ended with our laughing at one another, or a peaceful evening spent by the fire... and those memories seemed more real to me than the actual ones.

_Carlisle is my anchor here; if he leaves, I'll go mad._

"– back to the inn to help my sister. Would you like to stay and finish your meal, Cornelia?"

I looked from Caleb's inquisitive face to my plate of untouched food. I nodded my head minutely, and he kissed my forehead as he departed.

The silence in Misses Weaver's townhome was thick.

I hadn't noticed that Carlisle had collected his things and stood until I heard his voice. "Good day, Cornelia."

In the 1.2 seconds it took for me to stand and block his exit, my mind came back to me in full force. The past six months cloudy memories returned in a sudden burst of anger.

"Stop!" I shouted in his face.

He was taken aback. "Can I be of assistance, Cornelia?" he asked incredulously.

"_Yes_, you can," I whispered.

His face was stoic as he observed my erratic behavior. "What would you have of me?"

"Answers," I demanded, putting a restraining hand on his arm when he made to move around me. I wouldn't have him disappearing from my life. _I won't tolerate it._ "Why are you leaving?"

He sighed and took my hand between both of his, holding them between us. "I'm claiming twenty-nine now, Cornelia. The people of Hoquiam are beginning to notice that I haven't aged a day since I arrived here seven years ago." His expression relaxed as he spoke.

I could easily accept that. We had talk of his departure on many occasions in the past. _I refuse to let that petty reason take him away from me._ "Where will you go?"

His face hardened. "Somewhere far," he answered vaguely.

"You cannot leave anywhere that I won't follow," I declared, indignant. "I _swear_ I'll track you."

He stopped himself from saying something, and stared at me for a long moment. "You have a very pleasant life here, Cornelia... why don't you see that?"

I shook my head in denial. "No... you don't understand. You don't know what I've felt these past months..." I trailed off in remembrance. I realized that my gaze had fallen to our hands only when he gave them a gentle squeeze.

When I looked at his eyes, they were filled with passion – something that startled me after seeing only their empty depths all those months. "You were my ultimate test, Cornelia." He reached up to smooth the pucker between my eyebrows with his thumb. He kept his hand lightly on my cheek. "I've passed you now... and I thank you for the experience."

I stared up at him for a long time. The words confused me, but the endearment they conveyed made me smile. And though it sounded like a parting farewell, I held onto the words tightly for several moments. He could have said that I was as dear to him as his horse, and I still would've been thrilled. Emotions and desires flew through me like a summer tempest, and I felt my heart swell with longing.

I realized, quite suddenly, that I had reached a critical moment in my life. A fork in the path I was walking; an important decision that would determine my future. Most definitely, my next action would affect the rest of my existence indefinitely.

I stood on my tip-toes, took his face into my hands, and pulled his lips to mine.

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><p><strong>Cornelia finally snapped! Do you think it's for the best? Has Carlisle felt the same way all along?<strong>

**There's only a few chapters left in "Part 1" and I'm working out the kinks now. ****Do you like it/hate it so far? Review and let me know.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**


	14. Chapter 13: Eternity

**Thank you, ****Pfachgirl****, for your review! Sorry about the cliff-hanger; hopefully this will make up for it.**

**I know that Hoquiam was a stretch, but I cannot bring myself to establish Forks 130 years before its time. "Clallam" is Forks' county, so I just stuck "region" on the end of that and... presto. Take note, however, that this **_**is**_** the Forks area near the Quileutes' land. It'll be important later in the story.**

**Also, in my research of the 19****th**** century Pacific Northwest, I came across a startling mistake of mine. At the time this is set, the province was called "Oregon Country" not "Washington Territory." I've already edited the inaccuracy out of the first several chapters. My apologies to all you historians out there.**

**Sorry for the long A/N; here's the new chapter. I wrote this quickly for you guys, as usual, so forgive the mistakes. Notice the date: a year later.**

**-Scarlet**

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><p><strong>Chapter 13: Eternity<strong>

_December 5th 1815, morning_

_Clallam region, Oregon Country_

Caleb was devastated when I ended our courtship. My vague excuses did little to console his broken heart, but I couldn't bring myself to feel anything more than slight regret. I told him to remember me as I left for brighter horizons with my dear uncle, Carlisle Cullen. We stayed for the winter, and I was by Martha's bedside when her first child was born. She named the red-haired, blue-eyed girl after her mother: Delilah.

Carlisle left his home to John Stockton, after selling nearly all the furnishings. We were able to leave Hoquiam with just one wagon-load of goods.

The months following were the happiest of my life. I loved Carlisle, I had discovered quite abruptly. The hours spent in his company had only strengthened that feeling... as did the moments spent apart. He confessed that he had had feelings for me since the first weeks I'd arrived in Hoquiam. He forced himself to interact with me, because he thought I was a final test sent to challenge his control. He often told me that he'd failed the test, and then he would smile and kiss my forehead.

The connection we shared was undying and indestructible, unfortunately. However, this was no curse... because we'd be together forever.

We moved north, to a region called Clallam. The Quileutes were only thirty miles away, and I had stood back in amazement as Titus Black shoot Carlisle's hand for the first time. Titus told me that the area received the occasional nomad, but nothing more.

Carlisle and I built our new home in Clallam from the ground up, with our bare hands. There were windows in _every_ room, unlike his old home. The location was in a thick, pine forest: our personal hunting ground. Few people, besides the Quileutes, even knew of our existence there, and we had little interaction with the outside world. It was our own planet that we had built together.

That day in particular (which happened to be my birthday) Carlisle had planned a "special event," as he called it. He had told me to stay at our favorite spot in the forest as he retrieved the "surprise." I obediently stayed under the large, powerful oak which had seen fit to create its own island in the middle of a river. Some bushes and smaller trees occupied the space as well, but it was excellent for relaxing to the sounds of the forest.

As I waited for him to return, I thought. We often professed our love for each other, we shared passing touches of affection, and he had kissed me too many times to count. However, that was the extent of our relations. Without the eye of humanity holding us back, I thought that we should be much more than just suitors. I'd never once brought up the subject of marriage, and he'd never hinted at the matter... but I hoped, and waited.

One activity that we often enjoyed sharing was experimenting with my gift. I had not harnessed the extent of my power at that point; it had only been a nuisance. Whenever I felt strong emotion of any kind – fear, anxiety, helplessness... affection – my ability would assert itself in the moment that my willpower slipped. The white, misty shields would pop up randomly when I attempted to control them, often damaging things if I was indoors. So, we brought our tests and trials outdoors, where I could damage anything I liked.

I sat close to the river's edge as I waited, twirling my finger in the chilly, surging water. Snow had been delayed that year, so only harsh temperatures had descended upon us. Chunks of ice flowed with the water, having frozen overnight. A cold breeze swept through the forest, causing the frost-laden pines of the forest to sway lazily.

Agitated with waiting, I stood. I wore many layers of clothes to thwart the cold, but I still shivered in the harsh wind. _Why today, of all days, would Carlisle wish me here in the cold? _I wrapped my arms about myself and shuttered.

Suddenly, I got an idea. Holding my thickly-gloved hands into the wind, I closed my eyes and focused. It took all my concentration several moments before a soft whisper caused the wind to stop. When I opened my eyes, a tall shield stood before me, blocking the harsh wind from reaching me. I smiled at my handiwork, just before a familiar scent reached my nose.

I would recognize Carlisle's honey-like scent anywhere. My shield dropped with the distraction.

He had crossed the river before I even turned around, and I smiled when I saw what he carried in his arms. "The 'surprise'?" I presumed, motioning to the large wicker basket.

"Yes," he said, leaning down to kiss my cheek. "I think you'll be very pleased, my dear."

I sat on the blanket he situated on the ground, and we weighted the edges down against the wind with stones. The tea he brought for my was half-cooled, and the biscuit was half-crushed by the apple. We laughed at his misfortune, but I insisted that the chocolate drops had been a success.

"Perhaps I'll find some way to atone for my carelessness," he said, smiling as he brought my hand to his lips. He laid across from me as I finished eating, propped up on his elbow.

I giggled into my other hand as his cool lips kissed my knuckles. "What could you possibly procure after the _cheese_?" I laughed, pointing to the half-dirty chunk of yellow cheese that he'd dropped on the way.

"Well...," he mused, smiling devilishly, "perhaps I can redeem myself in a non-food related way." He pulled a red rose from behind his back and set it between us.

It was withered from the cold, and the stem was uncut of leaves. Charmed, I smiled as I stroked the soft petals. "A rose in mid-winter?" I asked slyly, feeling warmed by the gesture.

"I suppose poinsettia would have been more fitting, but I didn't have the time to run up to Canada... again." He brushed my cheek with his fingers so that I would look up at him. His face became more serious. "Happy Birthday, my love."

I slipped the glove from my hand so I could touch his face. "Thank you, Carlisle." I beamed.

"Cornelia, I love you." He put a hand on my waist and drew me close, until only the rose separated us.

"As I love you," I breathed faintly, affected by his nearness.

His golden eyes burnt with love as they gazed into mine, and his voice was full of genuine sincerity. "I have loved you since the day I knew we were meant for each other... which was the first time I saw you." He pulled our foreheads together, and rested his hand on my neck. "You are my soul mate and my true love, Cornelia."

I felt his other hand slip something cold into my palm, but I couldn't bring my eyes from his to look down. "Carlisle..."

"I promise to love you for the rest of eternity." His hand closed around mine, and his lips brushed my own. His voice was just above a whisper. "Will you marry me?"

I felt a wave of affection rise up within me, and my eyes brimmed with tears. My throat felt like glue as I tried to form words. "Yes," I gasped. "Yes, Carlisle. I love you."

Our lips met as he slipped the ring onto my finger. I kissed him with all the love and passion that blazed in my soul. A heat burnt between us so intense that I forgot about the icy wind and the cold ground.

Suddenly, I felt a cool tingle in the palms of my hands, and I jumped away from Carlisle in surprise. Gasping, I looked down at my bare hands and clenched them together tightly. As I did so, the shield that had formed around us like a wall vanished from sight. I sighed, regaining control.

"Oops," I said, smiling at Carlisle's surprised face. "Sorry..."

"That was _excellent_." He held out a hand to help me to my feet. "How did you do it?"

I chuckled softly, falling into his embrace again. "I didn't do it. _You_ did..." I reached up on my toes and pecked his lips. I held my hand against his smiling face, and only then did I see the sparkling diamond ring. But I only saw it for a moment, as his eyes captured mine in their gaze once again. "Thank you for loving me," I whispered.

His eyes danced at the words, and he took my lips in a sweet kiss. After a moment, his lips stilled against mine, and he pulled back a tiny inch. A hint of regret laced his words, "Thank you for letting me – in all that I am."

My fingers twined in his golden hair, and our bodies molded to one. "I love for _who_ you are... not what you are." I leaned my head against his silent chest.

We held each other there for many long minutes, as the brook chirped behind us and the wind whispered through the trees. Carlisle swayed me gently back and forth with the wind, and it felt as though heaven had opened to us for one shining moment. My heart trilled at the thought of this lasting an eternity.

It wasn't until half an hour later that I realized what the rhythm of our motions was set to...

My heartbeat.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

I stroked the soft metal of my gold ring as I gazed into boundless depth of the flames in the fireplace. They danced and swayed to the melody that Carlisle softly played on the piano beside it. His fingers flowed gracefully over the keys, and his breathing matched the steady tempo of the wistful song.

The music ended with a bitter-sweet tone, and my love came to sit by the sofa that I laid upon. He took my ringed hand gently in his own, and kissed the gemmed face of my fourth finger. His eyes reflected the moonlight of the window above us, and I stared into his loving gaze for what felt like an eternity.

"I love you, Cornelia. With my whole heart and soul... nothing will ever break us apart."

My eyes slipped closed as he took me into a tender embrace, and I wrapped my arms about him tightly. I sighed in the peace of the heavenly moment, and wished that it might stay...

"Forever, Carlisle... I love you."

* * *

><p><strong>Can such a thing last for eternity? Review and find out sooner.<strong>

**-Scarlet**


	15. Chapter 14: A Building Tempest

**Pfachgirl and FleurSuoh, _thank you_ for your steady reviews. I'm really encouraged by your feedback! Also, thanks to ReprimandedAngel and PureAngelEyes for the Favs/Alerts.**

**So sorry to dash your dreams, but remember the summary: "**_**death**_** and love; **_**despair**_** and hope; **_**tragedy**_** and miracles." Hopefully you got a large enough dose of fluff to carry you through the next two chapters... hopefully...**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14: A Building Tempest<strong>

_April 3rd 1816, 11:35am_

_Clallam region, Oregon Country_

Four blissful months as fiancés passed us by. Each day I grew more inseparable with Carlisle, so I was driven nearly mad when he had to leave for supplies one night. Conveniences such as soap and clothes could not be grown in our garden, and the nearest town was over a hundred miles away. I worried as the cloudy morning faded away to a sunny afternoon; Carlisle would either have to return home, or wait for rain or nightfall to walk among mortals.

I tried to distract myself with reading, but without Carlisle's voice saying the words, they were colorless. I tried to distract myself with sewing, but I kept sticking my own finger with my inattentiveness. Finally, I found a distraction at the instrument in the sitting room.

Carlisle had taught me some basic things about the piano, and I enjoyed his instruction. Today, however, I could only imagine him sitting beside me on the bench. I pictured how he would smile at my efforts as I attempted to sight-read the notes of "Moonlight Sonata." Seeming unfit due to the sunlit windows, I put it aside and played simple melodies from memory.

Then, something so rare happened that I had to stop playing to confirm that I had heard correctly.

There was a knock at the door.

I rose from the bench and descended to the first level, curious as to whom could be calling. Sensing a familiar scent, I cautiously cracked the front door and peeked out. I opened the door fully and smiled at the boy who stood there, who looked slightly baffled. "Ephraim?"

He wasn't the mere boy that I had saved from the tavern two and a half years before. He gave me a strange look, and raised his nose to sniff the air. "You _live_ here?" he demanded.

"Y-Yes," I replied to the strange question. "Did you come from La Push? Is there some trouble?"

The Quileutes never contacted us unless there was some vampire activity in the area. Just the past week there was a nomad that passed dangerously close to a human town near Quileute territory.

Ephraim's nose wrinkled in distaste. Apparently the aroma in the house wasn't pleasant to werewolf senses. "_My_ father sent _me_ to bring you back with us."

A younger boy stepped out from behind Ephraim and gave me a repugnant scowl. "Where is your mate?" the second boy asked.

Offended, I stepped past the threshold and held out a hand of greeting to the new boy. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure. I'm Cornelia."

He hastily shook my hand. "Uley. Levi Uley. The sooner that you're ready to go, the better."

"I'm sorry. Carlisle left last evening for –"

Ephraim's face erupted with anger. "The vampire isn't _here_?" he demanded, balling his fists. "He _left_ you here?"

"Only for the day," I protested, standing up to the imposing adolescent. "He'll return shortly, I'm certain."

He shook his head angrily. "Not _shortly_ enough. You _must_ come with us... _now_."

"I-I..." His eyes were very serious; I wasn't squeezing out of this one. "Very well. Allow me a moment to arrange my things."

"Quickly," he warned heavily, stepping forward to close the door himself.

I left a note in the receiving room for Carlisle, telling him where I'd disappeared to, and gathered some personal items in a small travel satchel. I changed into a more weathered dress, and tied my hair up securely. I would be able to run fast and easy with my satchel over my chest.

Ephraim and Levi were still waiting by the door when I returned. "I am ready," I informed them, and Ephraim nodded sharply. _His father is training him as a good leader. He'll be chief when Titus is gone._

The sun had passed the top of the sky before we arrived in La Push, and I estimated that it was late afternoon. Ephraim immediately took me to his father, who had gathered a meeting in his home.

There were six members of Titus' pack there: his son Ephraim, Benjamin Clearwater, Quil Ateara, and Levi Uley. I had already met Jeremiah Uley the year before, who was Levi's father and second-in-command of the pack. Peter Clearwater, Benjamin's older brother, was not present. Titus told me that he was scouting with another young brave, Nehemiah Call.

_Eight. There are eight wolves in the pack._

Titus' first wife was also there, and I had to decline a meal three times before she withdrew. I could tell she was nervous, and I soon asked Titus why.

He pulled me away from his pack and spoke lowly to me. "Many vampires have been waiting twenty miles off of the eastern border. They have not moved in days, and I am beginning to fear."

"Is everyone informed?" I asked, looking at the young faces in the room.

The worry lines on his forehead deepened. "Only Jeremiah, and my son."

I nodded slowly. "Why are they there? What are they waiting for?"

He shook his head in exasperation. "I do not know. I know that their numbers are great, and that they are lingering. Nothing more."

I stayed in La Push all day, and Carlisle arrived at nightfall. I ran to meet him before he'd reached the village. Peter Clearwater and Nehemiah Call were with him, and they claimed to have stumbled across Carlisle on their way home.

I thanked Peter and Nehemiah, and pulled him aside. "My love, there is trouble," I whispered to him. "You must speak with Titus immediately."

"I had a feeling," he said worriedly, taking my hands. "There are many unfamiliar scents in the forest."

During the night, Carlisle and I helped the Quileutes prepare for what seemed like an inevitable confrontation. Titus, Jeremiah, and Ephraim stayed up all night to strategize while the other slept. Jeremiah and Ephraim scouted every hour to spy on the enemy encampment, and what news they brought back was not good. The vampires, numbering thirteen altogether, were moving into an attack formation. We could only wait and worry as to what their next move would be.

Several hours before sunrise, I laid on the ground in Titus' home to rest. It wasn't until Carlisle came and wrapped his arms around me that I found sleep.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

_ Even though it was the tenth time through the training maneuver, Lakota still swiped my legs out from under me. I toppled to the ground, landing on my already-sore leg._

"_I can't..." I panted, shaking my head back and forth. "I can't do it anymore!" I whipped the sweat from my face; Lakota always insisted that we train in the open noon sun._

_ "Yes, Cornelia, you can! Now, again." He helped me to my feet. "And this time, listen my every motion." He raised his fists, and waited for me to get ready._

_ I sighed heavily, and pushed my hair back behind my ear. I braced my bare feet in the grass and blinked my eyes under the black blindfold. I heard Lakota step to the left, so I corrected my position. "I'm ready."_

_ He stepped twice again, and my heart pounded with apprehension. He changed the maneuver slightly every time, so I could not predict his movement. Suddenly, as quick as a hummingbird's wing, he was behind me and ready to attack from the rear._

_This time, I heard the sound of his leg cutting the air, and I projected where it would strike my ankle. I sidestepped, hitched my leg with his, and used his own momentum to flip him to the ground. The impact was loud, and I heard a surprised grunt._

_ I ripped my blindfold from my face when I heard laughing, and smiled when I found Lakota flat on his back. "You've done it," he laughed. "You can now see what your opponent sees... without seeing at all!" He stood to his feet and put a praising hand on my shoulder._

_ I laughed with him, relieved to have finally gotten it right. "When will I ever need to fight without seeing?" I asked, not expecting a serious answer._

_ The smile vanished from his lips. His face grew grave, and his eyes were foreboding as he looked down at me. "When you least expect it."_

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

I jerked awake, and immediately felt a cool hand on my clammy face. "Carlisle?" I whispered, trying to adjust to the darkness of the early morning.

"It was only a dream, my dear. Do not fret," his soft voice said, and I felt him place a soothing kiss on my forehead.

I clung to him and squeezed my eyes shut. "Must we fight them, Carlisle? Must we _always_ fight?" I moaned in delirium. My mind flashed with blood and carnage; memories upon memories of war.

"I will protect you, Cornelia. I swear this to you."

Carlisle and I stood by the sea for the sunrise, but the horizon was shrouded by tall, looming thunderheads.

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><p><strong>Shorter, yes, but I think you can guess what the next chapter will be. Please, don't hate me... hate me and <strong>_**review**_**.**

**Next time: "The Battle and the Aftermath."**

**-Scarlet**


	16. Chapter 15: The Battle and the Aftermath

**Thank you, HannahIsMee, for the Alert.**

**I _know_ that the Quileutes would be speaking **_**Quileute**_**... but you all brought your universal translators with you, so there's no problem here. Right? Right.**

**WARNING: This chapter contains **_**violence**_**. Beware, oh ye faint of heart.**

**I literally just wrote this – mistakes no doubt abound. Enjoy.**

**-Scarlet**

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><p><strong>Chapter 15: The Battle and the Aftermath<strong>

_April 4th 1816, 7:25am_

_La Push, Oregon Country_

With the rising of the sun came rising of panic – Titus had told the entire tribe of the threat on the eastern border. The anxiety in the village was tangible, and many women wore beads of protection and put up war colors outside their homes.

A spring drizzle fell from the heavens, but the clouds that pressed down were holding back. The intimation of a storm on the wind made my hair stand on end. Just like the instincts of any other animal, mine told me to run for shelter. _But I can't. Not now... when I am needed._

I sat with Titus and Carlisle by the bonfire that was lit in the center of the village, waiting for word from Jeremiah and Levi. The father and son had been scouting for hours, and Titus had sent Ephraim and Nehemiah after them not long before. Carlisle held my hand as we sat wordlessly, and I tried not to show my worry with my expression.

Levi and Jeremiah arrived back half an hour later, and quickly gave their report to Titus.

Levi's face was pale, as though he'd witnessed something terrible . Jeremiah's voice rang loud enough for villagers around to hear. "They're moving against our border. They're inside our land and traveling west."

Titus' face was stricken. "For the village? How soon will they reach us?"

Jeremiah's jaw set. "Five minutes at most – they are moving swiftly."

"Where is Ephraim? And Nehemiah?"

"Coming. They will be here soon."

Titus raised his voice so the pack members around the village could hear. "We must head them off before they reach the village! Transform and follow me quickly through the trees!"

Quil Ateara tentatively stepped from the small crowd that had gathered, but an elderly woman caught his arm and tried to hold him back. She didn't want him to go to war; he was "too young to die." I had to turn away to hide my frown. _Why must we fight?_

Carlisle pulled me along after the pack as they congregated outside of the village. As planned, we would fight alongside them. When we were out of sight, he stopped me, having sensed my trepidation.

He took my face in his hands and looked into my eyes, love in his own golden gaze. "I _will_ protect you, Cornelia. No harm will come to you today."

His words strengthened my spirit. "If we are together, I'll have no fear." I kissed his lips gently. "I love you."

"Always, Cornelia. I love you."

He held my hand in his securely, and we sprinted after the pack to join the battle.

The wolves tracked the scent of our enemies to the ocean, where a shallow channel cut through two isthmus of land. The waves crashed against the jutting rocks along the beach, and a field of driftwood ended at the gentle rise of the forest behind. Sea spray dampened my hair; the sky was violent and the sea was angry.

Titus, the large red wolf, prowled back and forth at the farthest reach of the water. The black wolf was Jeremiah, who gazed out at the land beyond. The smallest wolf, Quil Ateara, whined and pawed at the ground apprehensively.

I heard a transformation behind me, and I allowed him a moment before turning around. Ephraim's hair was wet and sandy from running along the beach. "My father wants us to wait here. The enemy will be here soon, and we'll retreat into the forest if the fray is too great."

I nodded, and Carlisle shook his hand before he shifted back to his wolf form. The red-brown wolf trotted past us to sit by the silver wolf, whose human identity was unknown to me. _Nehemiah, perhaps?_

I turned to Carlisle. "What do you think, Carlisle?"

He took a stray piece of my hair between his fingers, and tucked it behind my ear. The wind blew it back in my face the moment he let go. "I trust in Titus' judgment. Being here in the open is favorable to the forest. My only worry is the weather."

As if on cue, a low rumble of thunder resonated across the marbled surface of the water. The striking of the waves against the rocky shore sounded like symbols in an orchestra, and the wind blew sand through the air like angry hornets.

"The pack is strong," I said with resolution. "They will carry through."

The landward breeze blew the scent of vampire closer and closer. The eight wolves along the beach became more restless with each passing minute. I stood at the very back of the group, closest the forest, behind Carlisle. He watched the water carefully, holding my hand.

As I waited, my sensitive olfactory nerve picked up another scent. It was very much the same as the rest (the same as all vampires), but it was from another direction. I slowly turned around, and looked at the trees behind the beach.

"Carlisle... they're upwind. They're coming from behind!"

Just as the words left my mouth, a vampire came out of the trees. He paused minutely, but it wasn't long enough for the pack to prepare. He ran straight for me, and Carlisle knocked me out of the way just in time. I caught myself before I fell to the sand, and looked back to see Carlisle pinned to the ground.

"Carlisle!"

Before I reached him, a dark brown wolf was there. He clamped his jaws around the vampire's neck and jerked its head off in one smooth motion. A terrible screech filled my ear, sounding like a fast train hard-stopping on its rails. I covered my ears and turned away as Carlisle helped dismember the vampire completely.

Moments later, Carlisle set his hands gently on my shoulders and rotated me to face him. Blood covered his shirt, but I didn't pay it any attention. "Is there more?" he asked gently, stroking the lines on my forehead.

I shook my head quickly; the scent from the forest had left with the wind. "No. That was just a forerunner. Don't you _smell_ them?" I turned my face toward the wind.

"Yes. More are coming."

I felt a something wet nuzzle my hand, and I looked down at Titus' red wolf form. "Yes, Titus?"

He jerked his head toward the ocean, and then whined as he glanced back at the trees.

"That was only one, Titus. They haven't changed formation, have they?"

His furry head swayed from side to side, and a low growl rumbled in his chest. He trotted away from us, back toward the shore where Jeremiah, Levi, and Ephraim sat. The rest of the wolves paced around the sand, waiting anxiously.

Then, Titus threw his head back and gave a blood-curdling howl. The rest of the pack immediately followed suit; the baying harmonized like a scream in the dead of night. I glanced up at Carlisle worriedly, and I knew we were thinking the same thing. _Let the battle begin already._

Suddenly, as quick as a thought, a dozen vampires appeared at the land beyond the small sound. Carlisle immediately pushed me behind himself, and the wolves growled and snarled at the sight. I could almost _hear_ Titus' command to hold back; Quil Ateara whined and crouched with restless energy as the rest of them took up a defensive formation behind Titus.

The fighting started much too quickly. Seven vampires were across the water within two seconds, and they clashed with the wolves on the shore. Snarls, hisses, rips, and cracks sounded everywhere as the battle began.

A vampire halfway to me was diverted by Carlisle. I put my hands out, and tried to make a shield to block the others from reaching Carlisle. I couldn't; either the stress or the fear was keeping me from using my gift. As I tried to focus, a vampire I hadn't accounted for smacked right into me like a battering-ram. The breath was knocked from my lungs, and the fiend pinned my arms to the sand. I struggled senselessly, wondering why he was so much stronger than me. He gave a feral hiss, and a drop of venom fell onto my cheek. I screamed in pain as he dropped his head to my neck.

Suddenly, the vampire was torn off me. I scrambled to my feet as Carlisle sank his teeth into the monster's neck, and ripped his head half-off. I grabbed one of the vampire's arms and pulled with all my might. With a high-pitched tearing sound, the severed limb fell limply to the ground. Carlisle had him in five more pieces by the time I caught my breath.

"Make a shield!" he said as he turned to clash with another foe.

I obediently rose my hands, and this time, a thick white shield formed around me. I yelped in surprise when a female vampire smashed into it, just a foot from my face. She jumped to her feet, and snarled at the barrier. "Come _out_, little girl," she hissed, scratching her sharp nails on the misty wall. "Come out and show me that _sweet_ blood of yours!"

In the distraction that my fear caused, the shield dropped. I panicked when she sprang forward, and I turned to run. The female was faster – she fastened her arms around my legs, and pulled us both to the ground. I felt the searing pain of her teeth cutting into the tender flesh of my calf, and the venom stung as she greedily sucked the vein there. I screamed with the unbelievable pain the bite caused, and I kicked her in the face with my other leg.

She was delirious with her thirst when I stood, which gave me a spare moment to attack. I grabbed her by the forearms and pulled her off the ground, ripping her arms out of their socket in the process. She screeched in pain, but fell silent when I took her neck in my blood-covered hands.

"Please," she begged mindlessly, "spare me, kind girl! Spare my –" Snapping her neck was not difficult.

I grimaced as her blood splattered on my face, and I threw her head to the ground as her body fell limply. I whipped my face with my sleeve, but my head snapped up when I heard a loud, painful whimper.

Two vampires stood around Titus – one in front and one behind. The first held Titus to the ground by the neck as the second brought his fists down on Titus' back. Several bones broke with a loud crunch.

"Titus! Titus, no!" I bolted for the scene, and punched the first vampire so hard in the face that he fell off his feet. The second acted quickly, wrapping his arms around my neck from behind. "Let go! Titus!" I scratched at the vampire's arms and kicked to free myself. _Titus needs me!_ Again, I found him much stronger than me. His arms began to compress around my neck; he was going to snap it. "CARLISLE!"

Then, the impossible happened. Blood trickled down my neck; I stopped breathing.

"Carlisle..." The arms slipped from my neck, and I stood on my own two feet. When I looked down, I saw that the vampire's head had been cleanly removed; it was _his_ blood that ran down my neck.

"Cornelia!" Carlisle was by my side, and he wiped the blood from my throat. "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head, dazed. _It's quiet. The fighting must be over._

"Titus...," I said, coming back to myself. I took Carlisle's hand and ran over to the red wolf that laid motionless on the ground. The sand around him was stained red with blood. "Titus!" I shouted, falling to my knees beside him. I put my pale hand on his large front paw, and listened closely for a heartbeat. _There isn't one..._

Then, Ephraim was there, standing over his father. I looked up at him, tears brimming. "Ephraim..."

"He fought bravely," the boy said, holding his head high. "He'll be honored."

I gazed at the young warrior, amazed by his valor in the face of death. I turned into Carlisle's chest to hide the tears that fell freely from my eyes.

The casualty of war was great. Jeremiah. Peter. Benjamin. Nehemiah. Titus.

All five bodies were still in their wolf-forms as we collected the vampire carnage from around the beach. We made a tall, bloody pile of the vial body parts, and Carlisle drew a book of matches from his pocket to burn it. Ephraim, Levi, and Quil – the last standing members of Titus' pack – stood and watched as the flames consumed the fragments of their foes.

I looked at Ephraim's empty eyes as they reflected the licks of fire, and Quil's frightened expression as he tried to be brave. Silent tears stained the dark skin of Levi's cheeks, but his eyes were distant as he gazed into the fire. I wanted to go to him, comfort him... but I was afraid that I had no solace to offer. Carlisle's strong arms held up any consolation that I had left.

Smoke billowed up towards the dark sky, and I felt a drop of rain on my cheek. After several minutes, rain fell easily from the low clouds, as if mourning along with us. I turned my gaze heavenward, and let the rain wash the sweat and blood from my face.

* * *

><p><strong>I wrote the "concept" for this after I read the battle scene in <strong>_**Eclipse**_**. This is basically how I coped with the lack of "character death" in the story. Yeah, I'm just twisted like that.**

**Tragic... but is the fighting finally over? Review - it means a lot to me.  
><strong>

**Next time: "Prize to be Won."**

**-Scarlet  
><strong>


	17. Chapter 16: Prize to be Won

**Thank you, gabbysmiles, for the Alert.**

**I **_**know**_** what you're thinking (that's right, 'cuz I have Edward here) - everything's suckish and the world is ending. Well... yeah.**

**This is the last chapter in Part 1. Don't cry... Keep reading – you won't regret it.**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16: Prize to be Won<strong>

_April 10th 1816, noon_

_Clallam region, Oregon Country_

Carlisle softly stroked my hair as I laid in bed, far after I should have risen. Tears that seemed endless streaked down my cheeks, and Carlisle swiped them away every so often. The curtains in the room were pulled shut, blocking the sunshine of the April afternoon from entering.

"Carlisle...," I whispered hoarsely, just as he wiped another tear.

"Yes, my dear?" His voice was as broken as mine.

I sniffed, and turned my head to meet his soft gaze. "We must leave this place, my love. Together."

"Yes, Cornelia." He held me closer. "I agree."

Nobody blamed me – I blamed myself. Ephraim was a strong pack leader, and he took responsibility quicker than anyone. He was the youngest chief that the Quileutes had had in ages, at the age of seventeen. However, the past few days since the battle had taken place weighed heavy on my conscious.

"Where shall we go, Carlisle?" I asked, touching his face. _If he could cry tears..._

"Wherever you wish. I will follow you, my dear... always." His hand closed over mine, and he brought my hand to his lips.

"I have always wanted to see New York City. Do you not long for the East, my love?"

He smiled gently. "I did enjoy my time there; however, I will never regret chancing the town of Hoquiam." I smiled as he stroked my cheek, and we reflected on the memories we shared. He had lifted my grief in one beautiful moment.

"I'm rather fond of the town, as well..." I laughed in reminiscence. "Do you recall when Caleb Wells escorted me to the spring dance?"

His bright eyes faded, and his smile darkened. "I was thwarted with jealously. I couldn't stand the sight of him with you."

I was surprised; we didn't speak of my relations with Mister Wells often. "Is that so? Tell me more," I implored.

"I truly wanted you to be happy, but I soon saw that you were not..." He paused in thought. "I assure you, those months you spent courting Caleb were the most painful of my life."

I frowned at his words, and reached around his neck to pull his face close to mine. "I now cannot imagine life with another. I do not recall how I survived those months, either..."

"Let us forget, then, my dear." His lips brushed mine as he spoke. "Let us look toward the future."

Our lips sealed.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Though I insisted that we had much planning to do, Carlisle insisted that I nourish myself. "The kitchen is as empty as the Sherwood Forest, I'm afraid," he had said, with a smile. "So, we must hunt."

The day was mild and sunny; the cheery weather made my sorrow seem distant. Carlisle held my hand as we searched for our prey, and we soon chanced upon his favorite: deer. We drank from the same wound twice over, until my hunger was satisfied.

We found haven at _our_ spot in the forest east of the house – the river. The water surrounding our "island" gurgled along happily, and reflected the gentle rays of sun in glimmering rays. I laid in Carlisle's arms on the soft grass, watching the sun march across the blue sky through the trees.

We spoke of our new lives in New York, and what house we would own there. He wished for a large house near the edge of town, and a stagecoach in which to travel to the city. I wished for a small home _in_ the city, where one might easily walk to one's destination. We laughed and resolved that we must try both, to see the better outcome.

Then, our blissful dream faded as the scent of werewolf traveled closer. I sighed, and turned in his arms to kiss him. "What do you imagine he wants?" I murmured against his lips.

"I cannot fathom..." He drew back and traced my lips with the tip of his icy finger. "It must be urgent if he tracked us all the way here..."

I stilled his hand with mine, and kissed his palm softly. "Let us meet him, my love."

We left our sanctuary, and met a dark grey wolf in the forest. It was Levi, and he barked for us to follow him. Ephraim was waiting for us at our home.

"Ephraim," Carlisle greeted him with a handshake. "What is it, my friend?"

Ephraim's face was more grave than ever, and his voice had deepened since we'd last seen him. "Sickness has entered La Push. You are a Doctor... can you help us?"

Carlisle nodded immediately. "Of course. We are always in your debt."

They went on to discuss the extent of the plague, and how Carlisle could help. Carlisle decided to go back to La Push with Ephraim, to see just how bad it was. Not having the mind to travel, I told Carlisle that I would rather stay home. Ephraim was surprised when we told him that we were planning to leave, but he did press the matter. The look in his eyes told me that he understood our reasons.

Ephraim and Levi waited at the door as Carlisle retrieved some medical supplies he might have need for. "I'll return shortly, my dear," he said, kissing my forehead. "Stay indoors."

I nodded, and watched him turn away. _How can I ever survive without him?_

I caught his hand, and I stood on my toes to wind my arms around his neck. I felt his arms wrap around me as I pressed my face into his chest. "Be with me always," I whispered, holding him close.

"Forever, Cornelia." I felt his hand caress my face, and I lifted my eyes to his. "I love you more than life itself." His golden eyes shone down at me.

I wove my fingers in his fair hair, and I felt unprovoked tears fill my eyes. My voice was filled with emotion, "I love you, Carlisle... so much." He caught a tear that slid down my cheek and his expression turned concerned.

"What's the trouble, dearest? Why –?"

A sob broke from my throat and I buried my tears in his chest. "Nothing is wrong, love," I mumbled pathetically. "The future is right before us... nothing could be wrong..."

"_Our_ future," he amended, drying my cheeks. "We'll be together always, Cornelia."

I forced my emotions to calm down, and my tears to cease. "Yes, Carlisle. Always."

When I reached up to peck his lips, he pulled me into a deeper kiss. An intense passion passed between us as we held each other close, sharing our love. I felt as though I couldn't get close enough to him, but, all too soon, he pulled away.

His face was apprehensive. "I'll remain here today, Cornelia. The Quileutes may wait a day."

"No, Carlisle. They need you." I stepped away from our close embrace, realizing what I'd done. _The needs of the many..._ "You must go to them quickly."

He wasn't convinced, but he heard the truth in my words. His eyes were conflicted. "I want to be here for you."

"There's no _need_," I insisted. "I am fine, my love. Forgive me."

He held my face and kissed me softly. "I shall return by morning, my dear."

"Of course." I smiled to show him I was recovered. "Do all that you can."

"I will." He held my hand as we walked to the door. "I love you desperately, Cornelia."

"As I love you, Carlisle."

His hand slipped from mine only when he passed over the threshold.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

The hours trailed as I waited Carlisle's return. The late afternoon faded to a dark, clear night. I kindled a fire in the sitting room as the evening cold invaded the house. Wrapping myself in a quilt, I sat on the sofa before the fire and enjoyed my favorite pastime – sewing. It was a nasty habit of mine to busy my hands when I felt anxious.

Nearly an hour later, I felt a terribly cool breeze draft through the room. I shivered, and looked up to see that a window had blown open. I stood from my warm seat, and walked over to it. I pocked my head into the cold night. _Strange... the breeze seems very light tonight._ I pulled the window shut and fastened the lock tightly in its place.

When I turned back into the room, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. A strange scent hung in the air... a scent I hadn't noticed before. _My nerves are making me paranoid,_ I decided. I settled back to my craft, and focused on the chipper crackling of the fire to distract the turmoil of my mind. The chill from the window dawdled in the room for several minutes.

After half an hour, I threw down my sewing in frustration. A threatened feeling nagged at me; my heart beat irregularly with readiness. I descended to the first level of the house, and tiptoed into the dark kitchen.

Carlisle and I always made a game of storing food in the kitchen. Every day that I looked for my secret stash of chocolate, it would be in a different place. I tried to hide it from him, to keep him from hiding it from me... and so on. Chocolate and I had a small fetish with each other; Carlisle often helped me quell my addiction with... distractions.

It took several minutes of searching, but I finally found it behind the teacups. I gingerly unfolded the wax wrapper, and extracted a small square of chocolate from large portion. The treat was cool between my teeth, and sweet to my taste buds. I smiled in delight.

"Excellent choice..."

The sudden voice made me freeze, and I whirled around to see the figure leaning in the kitchen doorway. His face was shadowed by the light brown hair that fell in his eyes, and his white teeth could be seen behind his smirk. When he straightened, I found that he was typical in height. Over all, very average-looking... even for a vampire.

"Wh-What are you doing here?" I said, almost awkwardly. There hadn't been vampires in the area since the attack on La Push. _Perhaps he was left after the fight?_

"Pity... I'd expected _much_ more from the Doctor's soon-to-be wife..."

His knowledge startled me, and I clenched my ringed hand into a fist. "How _dare_ you come here," I growled, crouching low to the ground. Though his stance was casual, his sharp ruby eyes looked ready to attack at any moment.

His expression turned to that of offense when he heard my words, and he held his hands in surrender. "I've no quarrel with you, Misses Cullen." He chuckled.

I glared at him, wishing that he would attack so I could destroy him. "What do you want?" I snapped, not relaxing my posture an inch.

He held his chin, and his eyes were bemused. "But there are so many things I wish for, half-breed... However, I will settle for your first name."

My lip peeled back in a growl; the sound was as furious as it was threatening.

He smiled at my actions. "Of course... Such tenacity." Before I could blink, he was behind me. He gripped my right arm and wrenched it painfully. I cried out as he pinned it to my back, and his other arm snaked around my neck in a chokehold. He bent close to my ear, and his breath held the lingering scent of human blood. "Your name, dearest?" he asked simply, holding my neck very still.

With one small movement, he could have snapped my neck. I was no fool. "_Cornelia,_" I snarled.

"Good girl," he purred, twisting my arm into a smaller angle. I cried out; a bone was at least displaced. "Why does your blood call to me so strongly, I wonder?"

I felt a defiance rise in my chest. "Maybe because you're so used to smelling your own scent...," I muttered.

He chuckled again, but it was more aggressive this time. "I see..."

A cold grip squeezed my neck, and he lifted me two feet off the ground. I felt the air constrict in my chest as I dangled there; he was strangling me.

His voice was casual as he glanced at me from side to side, "I was not so rash as those fools that attacked the wolf clan... I actually _think_ before I act. I believe that you are my captive now, Cornelia. What shall I do with you?" He looked thoughtful as I tried to pry his hand from my throat. Blood rushed up my spine. "I shan't waste you now... You are the most wonderful prize that I've won."

His hand loosened, and I slumped to the hard ground. My head felt light, and my vision was blurry with dizziness. My hearing rang... I was going to pass out. I stumbled to my feet, holding my throat and gasping for air.

The vampire roughly grabbed my arms, and pulled me off the ground. His teeth plunged into the flesh of my neck, and my mouth opened in a silent scream. Venom invaded my system with each swallow he took, and I felt the last of my strength drain from my fingertips. I couldn't feel the rest of my body through the utter of pain in my neck... the pulling pain of my blood leaving my veins. My sight darkened around the edges.

I felt him lick the wound clean when he pulled away. "Yes... you'll do quite well." The close voice sounded distant, as though my hearing was underwater. "Since we'll be on a first-name basis now, Cornelia, my name is James."

My consciousness faded.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

"_Carlisle!_" I shot upright from the cold floor, my voice cracking like broken glass.

_It was all just a dream!_ I groped around in the darkness for my love's touch. _Where is he? He's always here! _All my hands found was the cold, moist ground. "Carlisle?" My voice was dry, scared. My memories came back to me like a smack across the face.

I remembered traveling very far, very fast. My memories were fragmented and fuzzy; I hadn't been fully awake for days. My stomach clenched with hunger, and my lungs burned with each breath I took.

I was in a dark room, which was dank and damp. All the walls were the same dark stone, even the ceiling. _Is this a prison cell?_ I got the feeling of being underground as I touched one of the cold walls. "Where am I?" I whispered to myself. A helpless loneliness settled in my chest; I knew that I was far away from Carlisle.

From that day forward, James came into the cell twice a week to feed from me. I had no idea where I was, or why I was there. Every day, food would be left for me. I slept when I didn't cry, and I moaned when I didn't scream. I never saw the sun; never breathed air.

My existence became robotic, and I soon lost touch with my own self. Carlisle's face was always in the foreground of my dark vision... and our life, as it would have been, was my only sanity.

Time had no meaning in that dark place... nor did my pleas for it to end.

*~ **END PART 1 **~*

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><p><strong>SUDDEN ENDING. My deepest apologies; I know you <strong>_**really**_** hate me now. However, the story doesn't end there.**

**Reviewers will get a teaser for the first chapter of Part 2: Mind Games – "Chapter 17: New Centuries"**

**You could throw me a bone in a review... even if it's in flames. Remember, I love you all.**

**-Scarlet**


	18. Part 2: Mind Games – Table of Contents

*~ **Cornelia: A Tale of Twilight **~*

Part 2: Mind Games

_Table of Contents_

Chapter 17: New Centuries

Chapter 18: Partnership

Chapter 19: The Washington Wilderness

Chapter 20: Visitor

Chapter 21: Major Whitlock

Chapter 22: Ice Skates and Rooftops

Chapter 23: The Confession and the Conviction

Chapter 24: Stolen Kiss

Chapter 25: Twelve Days of Christmas

Chapter 26: The Snowman Conversation

Chapter 27: Lethal Encounter

Chapter 28: A Demon with Gold Eyes

Chapter 29: The Strangers

*~**C**~*


	19. Chapter 17: New Centuries

**You clicked on the next chapter! Thanks for sticking with this story.  
><strong>

**Thank you, tedmynameisfred, Pfachgirl, and kittylover313 for your awesome reviews. Also, thanks to Eunnie for the Fav!**

**Oh yeah, someone asked for Carlisle's POV on the last chapter. I _do_ have random POV's written for scenes throughout this story, and I plan to publish them in a seperate 'Extras' story once I'm done with this. If you remember, I mentioned that I have _most_ of this story written, it's just not up because I'm rewriting "Part 1" and "Part 2." So, bear with me.**

**Here's the rough plan:**

**Part 1: Carlisle, Part 2: Mind Games, Part 3: Volturi, Part 4: Time Tension, Part 5: Family, Part 6: Imprint, Part 7: Ever After**

**Oops! There were some spoilers in there... oh well. Anyway, this is quite a long story.  
><strong>

**Here's the continuation in the 20th century. Enjoy.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet **

* * *

><p>*~ <span>Part 2: Mind Games<span> ~*

**Chapter 17: New Centuries**

_December 5th 1927, 3:04am_

_Chicago, Illinois_

When I emerged from the prison, I found myself in southern Texas. I had inadvertently become involved with the wars between vampires in the southern United States. I was able to escape because no one had been watching me. From what I could gather from the scene that I stumbled across, James was involved with a warring coven. They had been wiped out, from what I could tell, by their enemies. It was luck that they hadn't found me, and I ran as far as I could from that horrid place.

I returned to Hoquiam, searching for Carlisle. The Quileutes marveled at my return, and I was shocked when they told me the year: 1819. I had been held captive for three years; Carlisle had already left.

I tracked him.

Those next years were the hardest, most miserable of my life. However, though the experience was difficult, it made me strong. Nothing challenged me, from the scent of human blood to the slaughter of a thousand foes. I traveled to New York, Boston... as far south as Charleston. I surrendered my search after three solid decades, determined to either forget about the love of my life, or recover from the impact he made upon my very soul.

I had little success with either.

From out of that trial, came an oath that I swore on my life. I would never let myself feel for someone that strongly again. Love was cruel; it was meant to be lost.

Decades passed... and with age, changes came. My blood still appealed to vampires, but not as strongly. The call was not as craze-inspiring, but they still came for me. Sometimes I could even reason with them not to kill me... sometimes they didn't listen, and I destroyed them.

Every day that I awoke, I noticed something: my strength was leaving me. Over the course of a century, my strength had declined to the equivalent of a vampire's. The only advantage I had over them was my senses, and my gift.

Fairly soon, the South seceded in 1860, and all hell broke loose in the Civil War. Luckily, I was able to flee Virginia quickly and elope to Canada. I stayed in Quebec until 1867, when the War finally blew over. I lived in Washington, DC during the presidency of Grover Cleveland; I had a small apartment not far from the Library of Congress. I moved on to New York City to watch the turn of the century in Times Square.

My life blurred by me... years slipped away like sand through an hourglass.

It was December 5, 1927. The "Roaring 20's" had broken out when the Allied Powers defeated the Central Powers in World War I. Everyone was buying Henry Ford's new "automobile" on credit, and living comfortably in modernized houses. Little did they know that the market would crash just two years later, and everybody would lose everything.

Chicago. The city was a dump and I tried not to cringe as I quickly passed through downtown. It was well past midnight, into the wee hours of the morning. Random shopkeepers were preparing their goods for the day. Vagrants roamed the streets, and cars passed by slowly every now and again.

I pulled my knit scarf closer and buttoned my wool jacket up to my chin. My long hair waved in the mid-winter breeze. It was just three weeks until Christmas, and the weather agreed thoroughly. It was a clear evening, but just a few stars were visible above the lights of the city buildings.

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my slacks_._ and looked down, bracing myself against the wind. _Thank God for twentieth century clothing._ If I had the chance to ask for anything on my birthday, it would be a hat.

I hadn't aged one bit – still 18 as ever on my 149th birthday.

My destination was the train station. I wasn't sure where I wanted to go, but I was certain that the $35.25 in my pocket would get me there. Finally reaching my goal, I approached the lonely station with slow steps – there wasn't a soul waiting on the benches by the landing, or in the windowed waiting room. A sole light shined from the ticket booth. The cold, early morning breeze blew across the empty platform.

I walked toward the booth, hoping that the morning express would be due soon. The human behind the glass was kicked back in a chair, his legs crossed, and his head stuck in-between the leaves of a newspaper.

"Excuse me," I said, leaning against the low, wooden counter.

The man didn't seem to notice me. I surmised that the glass was too thick for his dull hearing.

I rapped twice upon the glass. "Good morning, sir," I called.

He startled, then folded his paper in quarters when he spotted me. He was middle-aged with kind, green eyes and a light red mustache that matched his orderly hair. "A good morning to you as well, Miss. How can I help you?" His accent was Irish.

"When is the next train due, sir? The soonest possible," I added.

"Oh, uh... One moment, please." He shuffled through some records on his desk, and looked over a chart push-pinned to the wall behind him. "The express is expected in an hour and a half, Miss."

"Very good. One-way for that, please," I said, reaching for the leather pouch slung over my shoulder.

He appeared hesitant. "But, Miss… that train is carrying goods bound for Nashville. Is that where you would like to go?"

"Certainly," I replied, organizing my bills. "That will do just fine."

Doubtful, the man produced a one-way ticket and received the charge due, which was $12.50. Ticket in hand, I turned my steps for the benches nearest the landing.

"Miss, we have the furnace on in the tarry room. It's quite a cold morning," the man called as I walked away.

I turned back and smiled in thanks. "Thank you, but... I don't want to miss the train."

He returned my smile with a tired one of his own. "Not a problem, Miss. Keep it in mind if the cold reaches you."

Finally making it to the landing, I took a seat there. A thick, wide brick wall was directly behind the bench – making me invisible to anyone behind – which, I guessed, was designed to block the sound of the trains from the waiting travelers.

I shrugged out of my shoulder bag, and set it on the seat next to me. Curling my legs beneath me, I laid my head on the clothes-filled bag and closed my eyes.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

_"What is your name?" the woman asked, staring sternly over the half-moon rim of her spectacles. A line was perpetually between her eyebrows, and her lips were curled in a frown. However, my mother had told me to listen to everything she said... or else._

_ "Um..."_

_ Truthfully, I didn't know my name. Did I have a name? Martha, my mother, called me "Pigeon." But... that is the name of a foul, is it not? Joshua, the boy who lived down the road, called me "Girl." That is my gender, right? So, what was my name, truly?_

_ The only sound in the one-room schoolhouse was the chipper crackling of the furnace in the corner, which Teacher had kindled far before we students had arrived. Martha had sent me here to this tiny establishment of learning because she had too, in accordance with the Ole' Deluder Satan Act._

_ Even though it was mid-winter and our young nation was fighting for independence from the Motherland, the children of rural Boston were required to learn how to read. Martha had already taught me from her copy of King James's Holy Bible, but she had felt the need to send me here. The girls sat in the five rows of seats to the left, and the boys sat on the right. We were arranged by age: youngest to oldest, front to back. We each had our Hornbooks set on the desks in front of us, with our ABC's and our Lord's Prayers printed and mounted on the wooden faces. My copy of the _New England Primmer_ was fairly new – used before me only eight times – since I was a new arrival._

_ However, none of this was of any note to me. Teacher had realized her lack of knowledge of my name when she'd handed me a paper and told me to read it. I guessed she hadn't noticed me slip into her classroom at the beginning of the lesson. I couldn't very well say that my name was "Pigeon Girl."_

_ "Girl? Your name?" Teacher pressed impatiently._

_ The bigger girl in the seat behind me, who had already told Teacher that her name was Elizabeth, giggled. The smaller girl in front of me, who appeared around four years of age, looked back at me with big, brown eyes. The boys across the aisle whispered to each other._

_ Thinking quickly, I looked down at the parchment perched in my small hands. It appeared to be a list of births in America for that year, listed alphabetically. "Cornelia Lott Green" caught my eye because it was the longest._

_ "Greene," I quoth._

_ There was chortling from the boys side, and several older girls gasped. The girl in front of me flinched and whirled back around when Teacher wrapped her knuckles with her meter stick._

_ "Dear child," Teacher said icily. "That is most definitely your surname. I only wish for your first. What do they call you?"_

_ I forced myself to look that scary woman right in those cold, blue eyes of hers, and stood as tall as my 2-year-old body could possibly stand. "Cornelia," I said._

"_My name is Cornelia."_

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

When I awoke, quite suddenly, I found the station to be in the same state it had been beforehand. Disoriented, I attempted to decipher what, exactly, had been the cause of my rousing. I was not cold, nor uncomfortable. The tracks were empty, and I could hear nothing in the distance. Two pigeons picked at the space between the wooden slats of the platform, but other than that –

"Lovely morning for a train ride, I must say."

I shot into a sitting position, as though lighting had struck my spine. A man was sitting on the other end of my bench, his arm casually thrown over back of it, with one leg crossed over the other. His gaze was cast over the tracks, but his eyes snapped to me when I sat up, and he grinned.

The man was a vampire.

His dark burgundy eyes were hungry, and I could easily guess the reason why he had chosen a seat beside me. His hair was messy, reddish-brown, and ruffled by the slight breeze. He had a pleasant scent (not much more pleasant than only other vampire) and he was tall – I could tell even while he sat. I could see the outline of his muscular body through his thin, button-up shirt, and the pallor of his forearms nearly matched his white, rolled up cuffs.

He was the embodiment of an effective predator.

I scrambled off the bench, nearly stumbling on the slats of the platform in the process, and snatched up my bag, clutching it to my chest. "You shouldn't b-be here," I said grimly.

His smile grew, and his white teeth glowed in the dawning light. I realized that the sun would break the horizon very soon, and his identity would be disclosed. The situation was simply unacceptable.

"Perhaps you are right...," he mused, "and perhaps not. What brings someone such as myself to a place such as this, anyways?" He grinned wickedly, motioning around casually. "It is almost impossible to tell; however, you seem out of place as well. Miss...?"

_He wants my name. This vampire wants my name._ "I'm s-sorry... I –," my voice caught in my throat when he stood, and I took another wobbly step backwards. He took his own step forward, and his bloody eyes narrowed upon me.

I felt like running. Running, although humans would most definitely see me. Screaming, although they would be brutally punished for their concern.

The vampire held his chin, with a very amused expression on his face. "Curious... you think of humans as if you are not one."

I froze, eyes wide. "Er, what?"

"I suppose it's my own fault to have assumed..." His eyes flashed with mania. "Although it does seem strange, in any case."

I was almost insulted. Usually, vampires could deduce that I was a half breed... by my scent, perhaps, or by my appearance. In any instance, they would either stand down or pursue. If attacked, I would act in logical retaliation. I considered how hard it would be to kill the vampire. _Without anyone noticing... there are many witnesses in the city._

I saw him cringe. "That would be the worst case scenario, I assure you," he said spitefully, wrinkling his nose.

I didn't want to take my eyes off him for one vulnerable second, but I needed to plan my escape. If I were to avoid any potential death, I needed to –

"That will be unnecessary, Cornelia. I have no intentions of harming you at this point in time." He swept a formal bow, and then held a slender hand out in greeting. "I am Edward. Edward Masen. I do believe it _is_ a pleasure, Miss Cornelia." He grinned at my shock.

"How do you know my – ?" I couldn't recall anything suspicious since I'd arrived in town the last evening. "H-Have you been following me?"

He seemed offended by my accusation. "In all honesty, I've only stumbled across you just now. I was contemplating what destination to purchase from that simpleton" – he glanced at the ticket counter behind the wall – "when I caught wind of your very unique scent. I've never met a 'half-breed' before, as you call it. Oh! You prefer the term 'hybrid', do you?" he rambled, his eyes becoming more bright with each word.

His enthusiasm startled me. I clutched my leather bag to my chest, and looked up at him warily. "You can hear my thoughts," I guessed, and he gave a joyous laugh.

"I knew your keen mind would deduce it eventually." His scarlet eyes danced. "All the same, I am surprised."

A moment of silence passed between us (well, maybe silent for _me_), during which I edged back an inch or so. "Will you... follow me if I leave the city?"

He nodded. "Yes." His voice reflected my disappointment, but his face did not. "I'll be happy to pick your brain for just a bit longer. Your mind is a wonderful place."

I nodded solemnly, hitching my bag higher on my shoulder. "Fine, then." I turned and walked away. _The train is too slow - I need to leave this place._

He followed, just as he said he would. "I do agree. The quality of transportation has declined since my youth here."

I glanced over at him as he walked nonchalantly by my side. I couldn't help the curious thoughts that entered my head at his comment.

He chuckled darkly. "If you are to ask questions, I expect some answers myself."

My brow furrowed. "Can't you just get them from my mind?" I motioned to my forehead as though it were obvious.

"No," he said drolly. "I can only hear what you are directly thinking at the moment."

_Whatever I'm directly thinking at the moment?_

"Yes." He smiled.

I had to suppress the shiver that threatened my spine. "Um..." Trying to keep thoughts from my head was very difficult. "You... said that you lived here. When? How old are you?"

"I was born in 1901, there in that lovely city." When he motioned behind us, I realized that we had already left town; we were almost to the forest surrounding it. "And I was turned into..." - he didn't speak the word - "seventeen years later."

_He's young._ "I see. Who was it that...?" I trailed off, as he had, gesturing vaguely.

It was a simple enough question, but it seemed to cause him hesitation. He took a sharp breath before he began, "I don't know. My parents died of influenza in 1918, and I ran away because I had no other family. A... person found me, lost in the city, and he decided to make a snack of me. Something distracted him before he could finish me off. I woke up... like this." It was the first time that his facade had slipped, and I glimpsed the seventeen-year-old boy behind the mask.

"Oh..." _The story was convincing enough, I suppose._ I bit my lip, worried of my own thoughts.

"So...," he said, grinning. "What's your story?"

* * *

><p><strong>Enter: Edward Cullen. Review if you love him.<strong>

**-Scarlet**


	20. Chapter 18: Partnership

**IN RESPONSE TO EXPRESSED CONCERNS: EDWARD WILL NOT BE A ROMANTIC INTEREST IN THIS STORY.**

__**He is a vital, NON-romantic component of this story. And remember, since this is canon, Carlisle has an Esme to get to****.**

**Ahem... Now that we have **_**that**_** cleared up... Thanks for you your review, Pfachgirl!**

**You may recognize this time period. In **_**Twilight**_**, when Edward's "rebellious period" was mentioned, he didn't specify exactly _what_ he did during that time. So... this is what he did.**

**Enjoy. This is fresh from Word 2010, so I apologize for errors.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18: Partnership<strong>

_December 5th 1927, 9:28am_

_Outskirts Chicago, Illinois_

Edward knew virtually everything about me by the end of our ten minute conversation. Whatever information I didn't want to divulge verbally, he acquired from my mind. This was a substantial irritation for me. However, when I again asked him to leave me be, he again insisted to stay. It was a very strange situation.

The snow did not fall though the canopy of the forest, but the cold was multiplied tenfold. I shoved my hands in my pockets and kept walking to keep from being frozen. Edward followed.

"Do you know how boring the forest is?" he said suddenly.

I tried not to let his comment provoke unnecessary thought. "I do."

"What now?" he asked.

I looked over at him, and I scoffed once again at the circumstances at hand. It was all so _strange..._ he didn't seemed troubled by my presence in the slightest bit. "What am I, the _agenda_?"

He laughed quietly, and fell wordless once again.

It was like a game he was playing with me. During his silence, my mind would wander to places I didn't want it to go. When I tried to keep something from my thoughts, that would lead me to think the very thing. I'd never had to guard my thoughts so carefully...

Then, another sudden question, "Why do you hunt animals?"

I clenched my fists and squeezed my eyes shut. In spite of my attempts to hide it, flashes of my past were open to him. Last year, in Georgia, I had found a wounded dear in a meadow... In 1861, I was nearly killed by a Canadian brown bear... When I first discovered my craving, the horror I felt after my first kill...

He scoffed.

I opened my eyes to glare at him. "Don't judge me, human drinker."

He flashed a taunting smile. "I know your intentions for drinking from animals. You don't want to become one of us."

I pondered this for a moment. _I suppose that _is_ my reason. _ Unwarranted, my thoughts then drifted to another animal drinker... one with more honorable morals than I.

"_Carlisle,_" he said slowly, and his eyes narrowed.

_Had I actually thought the name?_ He stared at me as though I held the key to the nation's treasury. I sighed, and let myself fall into memories of Carlisle, Titus, and... James. "He was my fiancé. We were... separated."

Edward's eyes widened. "O-Oh."

I massaged my forehead with my knuckles, trying to calm my mind of the raging memories. "It's over now..."

He was still shaking his head. "He shouldn't have done that... it makes so much sense!" he growled, low and fast.

_As if he thought I wouldn't hear. _I didn't want to make a point of telling him that I _could_ hear, but he stopped abruptly anyway.

"Anyway," I said, ignoring the scowl on his face, "I will not tolerate _any_ human drinker in my presence. That being said, if you continue with that lifestyle, I cannot affiliate with you any longer."

His lips formed a line. "All right."

"What?"

"I said 'all right.'"

"Really?"

"Yes."

"So... that means...?"

"It means I 'cannot affiliate with you any longer'..."

I smiled and rubbed my cold hands together excitedly. "Excellent!"

"Without drinking from animals," he finished. When I looked at him, he was smirking.

_Of all the...!_ "Are you implying that you will begin drinking from animals?" I challenged aggressively.

"Perhaps... I haven't decided just yet."

I stared at him strangely, wanting to smack the smug grin right off his face. The breeze made his copper-colored hair dust his eyes, which were filled with amusement as they looked down at me. A billion different things to say ran through my mind, and his smile grew with each passing one.

In truth, it had been a while since I'd interacted with anyone on that deep of a level. Humans naturally kept their distance from me, and I hadn't encountered a tribe of werewolves in decades. Conversing with vampires was the last thing to consider, yet... there I was.

"Will you travel with me to Washington State?" The question burst out of me – like water breaking into a boil, or a bullet blasting from a gun.

He looked just as taken off guard as I was. Apparently, I hadn't spared the request much thought. "Er, uh, sure."

I smiled, despite how ridiculous I was behaving. I took a cold lungful of air, satisfied with the agreement. "Very well. I shall break you of your disgusting habit along the way."

He glowered. "That isn't the reason that I'm accompanying with you."

I ignored him, and mentally checked our westward bearing. If we were to avoid harsh weather along the way, we'd have to head north after the Rockies.

"Good idea." He smirked at my surprised face. "Why Washington?" he asked warily.

I shrugged, coming to a halt. I bore my hands on a mossy, chest-height log and flung myself over. He landed next to me on the other side lithely, having cleared it in one jump. I dusted my hands, and then put them on my hips. "Washington is quite lovely this time of year, don't you agree?"

He pursed his lips, as if he knew I was avoiding my real answer. I could practically feel him digging around in my cluttered thoughts. So, as an experiment, I began mentally reciting the "Pledge of Allegiance."

He smiled after a moment and began walking again. "That doesn't help, you know. You're still thinking about Washington in some small degree."

"Oh," I deadpanned. "All right, then."

And thus, our glorious partnership began.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry this is short; I wanted to get this out there to clear up any confusion. I'm polishing the next chapter now – maybe I'll get it up tonight. Again, Edward and Cornelia's relationship with be <em>platonic<em> throughout.  
><strong>

**Review and tell me if this new direction is good/bad/terrible. All opinions and suggestions are very much welcome.**

**Next time: "The Washington Wilderness."  
><strong>

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Scarlet**


	21. Chapter 19: The Washington Wilderness

**Thank you, rayt3bow, Udumuhv, and kittylover30 for the Alerts, Favs, and reviews! Sorry I didn't update earlier – my focus drifts from story to story...**

**I know I'm writing Edward a bit OOC, but this is my take on a young, inexperienced version of him. As always, excuse my careless mistakes and enjoy this new chapter.**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19: The Washington Wilderness<strong>

_December 13th 1927, 8:13am_

_Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness, Washington_

We did not arrive in Washington for a full week. I traveled mostly on my own, as Edward could not bear my "sickeningly slow" pace. In retaliation to his comment, I insisted that vampires could not take ill, and that it was impolite to harass me about my stunted agility.

One afternoon, Edward met me as I neared the Montana border. He had been gone for a full day; I had thought that he'd abandoned me after all. I had felt very relieved to see him... until I saw the bright, red color of his eyes.

"What have you done?" I'd demanded, gaping at his oblivious expression.

"What?" he'd said, shocked.

I needn't have said any more at that point, as my thoughts were already screaming my alarm. "You've _killed_ a human! How could you?"

He seemed confident as he replayed, as though he'd rehearsed the speech beforehand. "He was no human – he was a murderer. He had eluded the police the evening before, and had crossed the South Dakota/Nebraska border to escape his fate. _I_ sealed it for him."

I'd stared at him. "The reasons are pointless. I doesn't matter if he was a murderer or a Catholic monk. You. Don't. Kill. Humans." I had stomped my foot with each exaggerated word.

His reaction had been arrogant. He had rambled on about "nature" and "instincts" for the next hour and a half. I didn't accept his stretched rationalizations, and repeatedly endeavored to show him the virtue in drinking from animals. He would only scowl and ignore me. We continued on in our perpetual dispute, neither backing an inch from the argument.

Nevertheless, we reached the most southeastern portion of Washington State on the eve of December 12. A horrible blizzard accosted us at the border, and we (_I_, to be more specific) were forced to find refuge in the cliffsides of the rough terrain. What we had veritably stumbled across was the Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness – the most rugged landscape in the Blue Mountains.

Shivering and cold, I'd attempted to start a fire with the twigs and leafs I found in the cave entrance. Edward had laughed at me and left, returning ten minutes later with two uprooted pine trees. I thawed by the fire for a full hour before my body began to relax. I had fallen asleep on the cold ground, with the loud blizzard howling in my ears.

When I awoke, I was tired and sore. I had gleaned little repose from my slumber, and my head throbbed painfully. I sat up stiffly, and gave a little start when I found the statue sitting beyond the burnt remnants of the fire.

"How long have you been there?" I asked, rolling my rigid shoulders.

He blinked, and I suspected that it was the first time he had in a while. "Since the snow stopped."

It was a vague answer, but it made me turn my eyes to the sunny entrance of the cave. Fragments of clouds still rolled across the morning sky, but it appeared as though the brunt of it had passed. It had left fallen branches and feet of snow in its wake.

"Where did you go last night? After..." I trailed off, my gaze falling to the ashes of the fire. _He left for hours... what could he have been doing?_

"I didn't _hunt_, if that's what you're thinking..." He smirked. "And you are."

I swallowed nervously. I still wasn't used to his rather insightful gift. It was as unsettling as it was inconvenient. "Well, then... what _were_ you doing?"

He stood in one fluid motion, and turned his back to me. His gaze was cast over the silvery, thrashed forest. "I was exploring," he said after a moment. "The nearest town is Walla Walla, and that's over a hundred miles away."

_I must be exhausted; I'm hearing things._ "La-la La-la?"

He chuckled, glancing back at me. "No – Walla Walla. There's about 15,000 humans living there."

"Oh." Something occurred to me. "How do you know that?"

He didn't respond right away. Instead, he stepped over to me and offered a hand. When I took it, he helped me to my feet. I straightened my coat and pulled a dead leaf out of my tousled hair. I began running my fingers through it to disentangle the long locks, and stooped to pick up my leather bag. _I wonder why he pauses for so long... he must be reading my mind, but why?_

"The mayor is very concerned with demographics," he answered finally.

I nodded awkwardly. _He must have passed by town hall... or – _

"I'm no savage murderer, Cornelia. As you make me out to be." His crimson eyes were scornful as he looked at me, and I was startled by his intensity.

"I believe we already agreed that we reached an impasse on that particular subject, Edward. I condemn your actions, no matter how sincere they may be," I said with cold formality.

His jaw set, and his lips formed a line. He thought a moment, and then said, "I want to show you something I found this morning."

His sudden statement surprised me. _Can he ever stay on one subject for very long? _I had noticed, in my conversations with Edward, that his way of speaking was much like thought. He spoke of many different things all at once, and changed his focus often. In his human life, he must have been very perceptive of the human mind. Perhaps his unpredictable way of conversing was a reflection of his mortal self?

As I followed Edward through the snow-covered trees, I wrapped my arms about myself to trap some body heat. The frigid breeze made me very uncomfortable. Snow drifts shored up the trunks of trees, and white dust was wedged in their dry barks. The dense forest allowed little sunlight through the canopy, sealing the cold air inside. What sunbeams Edward passed under bounced off his skin in flickering rays.

I stumbled after him in the knee-deep snow. "Where are we going, Edward?"

"It's not far – just ten miles or so. I have a feeling you'll like it." He stopped, and let me catch up. "Won't you run?" he asked politely.

_My legs hurt. I don't want to run._ I rubbed my cold hands together. "Of course. We'll _never_ get there if I don't."

"But... you're tired," he said, perplexed.

_He's too considerate for his own good. _"It doesn't matter, Edward. Sometimes I have to do things I don't want to."

He appeared uncertain. "If you say so..."

My feet barely sunk in the snow as I ran at top speed. Edward courteously kept pace with me, and I was staggered by his consideration. We ran and ran – there was nothing but forest and snow for as far as the eye could see… and my eye could see fairly far. I was watching my snow-covered boots when I bumped into Edward's back. I looked around him to see what had made him stop so abruptly.

"Isn't it great?"

_A cabin?_

It appeared to be completely made of logs, but it was hard to say with snow thrown haphazardly over it. It had a low roof and wide eaves, and a very small porch coming off the front. There were two tiny windows in the front, flanking the wooden door, and a third on the eastern side. It was the kind of scene that would make anyone warm and fuzzy by simply looking at it.

"Whose is it?" I asked immediately, planting my feet. I didn't want to take another step forward - a faint human scent hung in the air.

Strangely enough, Edward answered right away, "It was empty when I found it this morning."

I shot him a suspicious look. _Is he lying to me?_

"No," he denied, instantly indignant at the suggestion. "Why would I lie to you?"

I stared at him for a long moment. I wished I could turn his power on him – see his thoughts. His face was so hard to read; I didn't know him well enough to decide what his solemn expression portrayed. Finally, I chose to believe him... for now.

"Won't you at least take a _look_? We can leave it just as it is," he said persuasively, gesturing to the cabin.

I said nothing, giving him a dose of his own medicine. He laughed at my intended silence, and followed me as I waded through the deep snow. I lifted my foot out of the mire, and stepped onto the snow-free porch. The eave jutted out far enough to shelter the space from snow, but the surface was slick with ice. As I put my hand on the doorknob, I detected the same human scent, but heavier. Edward's scent lingered more recently, true to his tale. I couldn't be sure how old the human's presence was.

When I entered, I viewed a quaint, dim living room. It appeared to be in the center of the cabin, as the peak of the root met in the middle of the ceiling. An open, brick hearth was on the southern wall, with a high-backed sofa facing it. To the left was an out-of-place kitchen door, painted with whitewash. I pushed through the swinging door, and saw a tiny, dark kitchen. There was a wood-burning stove for cooking, and many cabinets for food. The smell of smoked venison hung in the small space. Back in the main room, I entered the half-door on the right. It was a bedroom, even smaller than the kitchen, with a minute mattress on a wooden bedframe. The small window above the bed illuminated the room.

It all appeared to be in very good order... as though it hadn't been used in a very long time. However, I remained unconvinced. I stood in the center of the living room as Edward ducked through the door. "What do you think?" he asked, smiling complacently.

I sighed. He knows what I think. The human scent saturated the air and radiated from the floorboards. I glared at Edward for a moment, testing the limits of his deception. He glared right back until I was forced to blink.

I sighed and rubbed my dry eyes. "Fine. We can flop here for the time being."

He smiled at my shattered willpower. "Excellent."

I cleaned the dirty ash from the grate, and we brought in some snowy logs from the pile outside. They were months-old cuts, so they caught fire quite well. Before long, the whole cabin was thoroughly warmed. Edward scanned the novels he found in the chest in the corner as I sunk down to the couch. I leaned my back against the armrest and closed my eyes. My lack of sleep and the morning jog had caught up with me.

"Edward?"

"Hmmm?" He pulled out a tome that had caught his attention, and flipped through the weathered, yellow leaves.

"I need to sleep again. Wake me in five hours, please?"

"Sure."

I pulled my leather bag from the floor, and laid my head on it. I curled up against my make-shift pillow and closed my eyes slowly.

Sleep found me quickly.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

_I opened my eyes out of a dreamless sleep to see Carlisle's golden ones looking back. He stroked my forearm with one cool finger and kissed my lips lightly. "Good morning, my dear..."_

_I smiled against him, stretching my arms around his neck. "And to you, Carlisle."_

_Though we had only been engaged for two and a half months, it felt like two and a half lifetimes. My life had never been as blissful; I loved him more than life itself._

_As I sat before the elegant breakfast he'd prepared for me, I heard the sweet notes of "Appasionata in F Minor" from the sitting room. I finished my tea quickly, eager to see my love once again. I loved watching him play the instrument; it was as though each note held the strongest of emotions that can only be expressed by the world of music..._

_I patiently waited for the song to reach a close, holding my hands carefully behind my back. When he finished, he turned to me with a smile. "My dear, I believe you've set the new quickest record for breakfast eating." The humor of his words glinted in his golden eyes._

"_I daresay," I quipped, playing along. "I commit my success to the inspiration behind the feat." I slowly sat next to him on the piano bench, with my legs on the opposite side. I gazed up at his soft eyes._

"_I digress... you flatter me." He took my chin between his fingers and tilted my face to his. Our lips met in a sweet kiss, which caused my heart to sing with rapture._

Carlisle... how I love him...

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><p><strong>Oh no! Edward knows <strong>_**everything**_** now...**

**Review and make my night - I'll send you a nice cyber-cookie with sprinkles on top.  
><strong>

**Next time: "Visitor."**

**-Scarlet**


	22. Chapter 20: Visitor

**Thank you, Kayla Richard and rayt3bow, for the reviews! Yay! You make me so happy. Also, thanks to NightWing101 and littlemisssunshine94 for the Alerts.**

**I'm not too happy with this chapter, but I wanted to update for you guys. Hope you like it.  
><strong>

**WARNING: This chapter contains **_**sexual themes**_**. Nothing explicit, but be warned.**

**-Scarlet**

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><p><strong>Chapter 20: Visitor<strong>

_December 13th 1927, 4:45pm_

_Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness, Washington_

As I slept, my dream changed. It wasn't often that I had multiple dreams in my sleep, as they usually jolted me awake before they continued. However, that was not the case this particular day.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

_I stood in a sunlit grass field, my arms open to the sky. The sun lit my skin aglow, and danced off the golden and red strands in my hair. The moment was beautiful; clouds lazily flitted across the blue sky, and summer crickets chirped from the tall grass. I didn't know where I was exactly, only that the area was full of prairies and dales. Though the weather was cheerful, my heart stung with sadness. It had been five years since I escaped James... five years of tearful, fruitless searching._

_ My sun-warmed cheek harbored cold tears that had escaped my closed lids. I stood there for as long as the sun stayed in the sky, until the evening song of cicada filled the space around me. The smell of warm grass hung in the twilight air; the warm evening breeze picked up and whispered among the wisps of wheat._

_ When I opened my eyes a time later, the sky was domed with twinkling constellations. My head snapped to the side when I heard the howl of a wolf. However, the scent that the wind carried to me was not that of a friend._

_ The pack was large: I assumed that the summer months had been plentiful for the wildlife in the region. Seven or eight greyish coyotes lurked toward me in the grass, snarling quietly under their breath. I found it strange that they just happened to stumble across me... perhaps they were traveling somewhere, and picked up my scent along the way. It was of no consequence, however; the danger was upon me._

_ I watched their crazed yellow eyes through the dark as they prowled around me. They thought they were trapping me, cutting off my escape. I almost pitied them – those pathetic creatures – for being so ignorant. Why, had they the mind for it, we could have gotten along quite advantageously._

_ Unexpectedly, the small one from behind sprang at me. I turned too late, and its extended claws dug into the flesh between my shoulder blades, tearing the material of my dress with ease. I screamed in pain, and jerked around to fling it off. Another jumped for me, this time from in front, and I caught it by its neck. The others nipped at my ankles and yapped loudly. I felt one's jaws sink into my forearm –_

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

I jolted awake, panting. My heart pounded in my chest, causing my entire body to shake. My skin was damp with sweat, yet I was cold and shivery all over. I sat up and wiped the moisture from my face, which I recognized as tears.

It took an immeasurable amount of time to calm myself... all the while, keeping the dreams from my thoughts. Dwelling on the memory would only intensify the pain that it caused. So, when my head no longer ached and my blood no longer boiled, I put a trembling hand to my clammy forehead and looked about myself.

The living room was cold – the fire had long been out. _How long was I asleep?_ The fading light of the sun shone through the windows, and an early owl could be heard from a treetop. Other than that, the surrounding area was completely silent.

I stood from the couch, and once again felt unrested. My back ached from lying on my side, and my mind was far from peaceful. I often dreamt of my time with Carlisle; it worsened every time, torturing me. Tempting me with a life I could no longer have.

_Where's Edward? _His scent was in the air, so he hadn't been a dream. I opened the cabin door, where the trail lead, and stepped out onto the icy porch. The sun set in the west, lighting the forest afire with its heavenly glow. The orb hung low and large in the sky, and I raised a hand to shield my eyes. The snow glimmered in the setting sun, with rainbows of purple, orange, and red. As I descended the steps of the porch (_Wasn't snow here before?_), I couldn't help but wonder what humans perceived of the winter landscape. Did they see the spectrum of colors the icicles cast along the eaves of the roof? Did they appreciate the sound of the soft breeze whisking gentle flurries of snow through the air?

My search for Edward was lengthy; his scent wandered miles into the trees. It wasn't until the dim twilight that I drew closer to my quest. However, as the scent grew stronger... another faint trail joined it. It was spicy like mint and subtle like grass, and completely different than Edward's personal aroma. I proceeded with caution, careful to take note of the overlapping footprints. Had Edward tracked the stranger, or had the stranger tracked him? I couldn't be sure.

I paused and rested my hand on the frozen bark of a pine; I was close. The trails converged there, almost as if –

"Evenin', ma'am."

I bounced off my feet in surprise, and the surface bark of the pine disintegrated under my sudden grip. I whipped around to see who it was, and my eyes immediately narrowed. He was tall – taller than Edward – with a gaunt, muscular build. He wore no shirt over his white skin, and his pants were torn at the bottom where the hem met his bare feet. When I looked back to his face, he was _smirking_. His dark ruby eyes glinted down at me with amusement. His caramel -colored hair fell in his eyes, and reached to the base of his neck. His scent was the same as the stranger's trail.

I strafed backwards, and prepared myself for a fight. "Why are you here?" I couldn't help but ask the question; Edward had claimed that the nearest town was a hundred miles away. It was strange to encounter a vampire in such a barren region. Barren of _humans_, that is.

"I don't think that's important, do you?" he said rhetorically, stepping closer. His movements were that of a predator.

_I guess he's already decided to make me his prey._ "How foolish you are, picking fights so quickly." I matched his movements with defensive ones of my own. _He must think me human, or incompetent._

"You sound pretty confident. I think we can change that..." His smirk was back, and he dropped his hands to his sides as if deciding not to fight.

Suddenly, I felt a change. Somewhere within me, a foreign sense of lust reared up. I stumbled forward with the force of it, having lost my breath. It felt as though I was suspended in some trance. Trapped in a cage of need that I couldn't break through. My mind was hazy with it... my thoughts distorted and scattered.

The man stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me in a lover's embrace, chuckling when I did nothing to resist. In some recess corner of my mind, I knew that something was wrong. I also knew that I could very easily correct it... but I did nothing. I was putty; a puppet.

"That's better," he said, amused. He breathed in the scent of my hair and ran his nose behind my ear.

I leaned into his cold touch, my arms hanging uselessly at my sides. All rational reason was far from me. I sighed softly as his icy hand slid down my chest, down my hip...

"_Much_ better..." His breath tickled my neck, and I turned my face toward his. My body melted into his, and my arms reached up of their own accord and circled around his neck. Our lips sealed softly, and my senses became saturated with him. My mind was intoxicated with desire - all else forgotten.

"Mmmm-hmmm," I mumbled dizzily. "P-Please..." I sighed into his neck pleasurably when his mouth dropped to my collarbone. His teeth gently nipped at my flesh, and my body began humming with need. I moaned when I felt his own need press against me.

"Ssssh," he cooed, his fingers dancing along the skin of my stomach, "be patient, little girl..."

Suddenly, a quick something ripped us away from each other. I staggered back, disoriented. My lust fell like a biplane without a propeller. Rage lashed out from behind my false feelings of desire, and the sudden extreme fury made me see red. _He controlled me somehow!_

When I recovered, I saw that Edward had pinned the man to a tree. Edward clutched his throat, holding him still when he tried to struggle. My opportunity stood before me, and I gladly took it. "Edward, hold him down!" I ordered, stomping toward them.

The stranger growled and scratched at Edward's strong hands. "Let me loose, you scum! Let me –!"

_SMACK._

Though my smack didn't leave a mark on his marble cheek, in the least, it made him stop talking. He glared at me with his red eyes.

"_How dare you!_" I screeched at him. "Who the hell do you think you are?" I stepped back and wrapped my arms around my defiled body, horrorstruck at my own actions.

His eyes were equally angry, if not more so. "What is this?" he growled. "You're obviously companions, but what right do you have to –?"

"_Silence!_" I hissed, scowling deeply. My voice was more snarl than speech; I was red-faced with anger. "We are _not_ companions. We are passing through this area peacefully. Your attack was unprovoked and _insolent_!"

He scoffed. Moving quicker than I could track, he twisted out of Edward's chokehold and stood thirty feet away. "I was clearly mistaken. I'll be going now." His unyielding eyes lingered on me, and darted to Edward worriedly. He waited for us to react.

Edward shot me a look, to which I nodded sharply. _There's no chance; we're not letting him get away. _I glared at the stranger, and his poise visibly stiffened when he realized our obvious intent. "What is your name, _vampire_?" I spat.

* * *

><p><strong>Who is it? I <strong>_**know**_** you know – don't be shy. Leave a review with your guess, and I'll dedicate the next chapter to whoever gets it right. Cheesy? You bet your life on it.**

**Worry not... I shall update soon. Next time: ...Well, I can't tell you – It'll give too much away, trust me.**

**I've been worried about the rating for a while. Should I up it to "M"? Please let me know if I should.**

**-Scarlet**


	23. Chapter 21: Major Whitlock

**Thank you for the reviews, GMLowry, NightWing101, and Udumuhv! NightWing101 was the first to answer in the last chapter, so this one will be dedicated to you, NightWing! Also, thanks for the Fav/Alert, Azrael Aria.**

**I put up a poem that Cornelia inspired in me a while ago. It's on FictionPress, under the title "If Life Had a Complaints Department." It'll probably make more sense to you after you read the later chapters, but I just wanted to mention it now... for some reason.**

**Here's the timeline explanation to all you fellow hardcore Twilighters: I found it rather difficult to **_**force**_** Jasper and Edward's paths to cross… so I bent the timeline a little. Just go with this: Peter helps Jasper escape from Maria in 1927 (rather than 1938), and Alice finds him in 1932 (rather than 1948). So, basically, I had Jasper escape ten years earlier, and Alice found him four years after that, instead of ten. Besides, what the heck did Alice do those 20-some-odd years before she found Jasper? Just go with it - everyone's happy that way.  
><strong>

**Sorry for another long A/N; shutting up now. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**

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><p><span>In dedication to NightWing101...<span>

**Chapter 21: Major Whitlock**

_December 13th 1927, 5:25pm_

_Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness, Washington_

"Jasper Whitlock."

The fact that he actually answered surprised me for a moment, but not long enough to let my guard down. "And why are you here, Jasper Whitlock?"

"I'm running from fate, ma'am. It's hot on my heels, so I really should be going." His face held nothing but honesty as he said this.

I stumbled over my words, "I-I..."

"What he means to say," Edward interrupted, stepping in front of me to break my gaze, "is that he's running from _her_." He turned away from my confusion and fixed his eyes on Jasper Whitlock. "Do you really _think_ she's tracked you this far?"

Mister Whitlock's eyes narrowed. "Have we been acquainted, sir?"

"No, we have not," Edward answered immediately. "But I know you, Jasper, by your rather self-centered thoughts."

Whatever façade that the stranger had managed to keep broke with that single comment. His eyes darted from Edward to me as thought we were some violent circus act. Edward began to chuckle at my silly thoughts, and Mister Whitlock cracked a smile. A strangely undeniable amusement filled me, and I laughed outright. I laughed until my sides ached, and so did the they. It was all very confusing... though quite humorous, apparently.

I forced control over my laughter, but I couldn't clear the smile from my face. I meant to put a small amount of menace into my next question, but it came out rather amiably, with a giggle, "What are you doing to us?"

Edward, still chuckling, pointed accusingly at Mister Whitlock. "He has the power to control what we feel! But it's all by accident, is it not?" he asked pleasantly.

Mister Whitlock had regained his composure, and was clearing his throat almost awkwardly. "I... don't know." His brow furrowed by some thought in his own mind as his gaze drifted to the ground. Something was obviously troubling him. His head jerked up when Edward laughed again. "It's not like that. How would you know, anyway?"

I felt slightly frustrated by the whole situation; it seemed that _I_ was the only one not privy to the information being exchanged.

"As I said, I can hear the thoughts in your mind. I believe what you're doing is foolish," Edward declared, rather pompously.

"_Foolish!_" the stranger exclaimed, affronted. "Who are you to judge? My thoughts are mine alone to judge!"

"Then that makes you the worse fool."

"Ah, yes, then who might you be?"

"Perhaps the same fool. Who's to say?"

"Your name, sir. What's your _name_?"

"I am Edward. Does the information satisfy you?"

"Exponentially." Seeming content with the exchange, the stranger then turned his attention to me. "And you? What's your part in all this?"

I nearly gaped. The tables had turned quite abruptly – it was now I that was being questioned. _It's all Edward's fault._ "I..." I shook myself of doubt, and straightened indignantly. "Weren't you saying that you should be leaving, Mister Whitlock?"

"Of course." He smiled mirthlessly. "But your 'friend' here seems to disagree with my plan."

Edward's expressionless face was cared from stone, and his firsts were clenched at his sides. "I believe Cornelia is right. You _should_ be going."

But the stranger hadn't taken his eyes from me, and his face lit up when Edward spoke my name. "Ah, Cornelia – what a lovely –"

"_Do_ not insult me, scum." If the stranger truly twisted my emotions, then he certainly knew what they were. I summoned all the infuriation in my being and focused it to a point. "You are much the fool that Edward says."

I turned to Edward with thoughts of murder in my head, but his gaze was unbreakable. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull as he gawked at the stranger. "You – ! You tried to _seduce_ –?"

"I daunting task," Mister Whitlock muttered, looking away. _He must have been thinking of our encounter. What a fool he is._

"Edward," I said quietly. _Let us depart. This man is obviously mad._

We turned together, intending to leave. I watched Edward's cold scowl and we walked away. The snow crunched under our feet, and almost immediately, another pair of footsteps joined us. "Where are we going?" the stranger asked as he followed.

_Do not answer._ Edward nodded sharply.

Mister Whitlock chuckled. "Oh, I see. You two _are_ compan –"

"Though our encounter was no doubt memorable, I suggest that we part ways here, sir." I nodded formally over my shoulder.

He wasn't quite content with the hasty farewell. As though his power was in me, I felt his dissatisfaction. He wanted more... of what I could not be certain, but the thought alone scared me silly.

Suddenly, Edward stopped dead in his tracks. I halted and watched Edward look curiously at the stranger. "Do you mean it? Are you certain?"

"More than my life," Mister Whitlock replied confidently, nodding once.

I nearly groaned in aggravation. _Why can they not speak aloud? What's happening inside his head?_

Some silent pact passed between them; I could see the communication in their matching red eyes. Matching, I noted, but so very unique in their own right. Whereas Edward's irises became progressively lighter toward the rims, Mister Whitlock's blossomed out in a star-like manner. Specks of dark burgundy highlighted the light candy red of his eyes. I looked from one to the other, trying to see their souls. And, of course, failing miserably.

"Cornelia," Edward addressed me abruptly, turning his head. "I must leave to sustain myself. I shall return shortly."

I gaped like a fish for several seconds. "B-But... I-I..." _ Don't leave me _alone_ with him!_ my thoughts screamed.

And then Edward was gone. I looked after him for a long moment, and then forced myself to face Mister Whitlock. His eyes were almost frightening with the intensity of their gaze. I stood up to it bravely. "May I ask what was just occurred, please?"

He chuckled smoothly. "It's all very strange, isn't it? I don't understand it myself."

"Oh..." The atmosphere became awkward. "All right, then." I shuffled my cold feet in the snow, my short breaths clouding in the heatless air.

"You're uncomfortable." He frowned. "Don't you have shelter near here?"

I eyes tightened suspiciously. "Are you a mind-reader as well?"

His severe face softened with a smile. "No. I'm only an empath."

I nodded minutely, beginning my walk for the cabin, to the south. "Is that what you call it?" I asked. Strangely enough, I began feeling more comfortable in his presence.

"I can feel what you feel, sort of like empathy – the ability to sympathize." His movements were casual as he walked beside me.

"But that's not all," I clarified. "Edward said that you can that you can _control_ what we feel."

He nodded simply, as though the detail was of no consequence. "Yes, that's correct."

I paused for several moments. I began to suspect that my sense of comfort was not my own, rather, _put_ there by this strange man. I watched his profile for a while, wondering what he was thinking, or perhaps, what he was feeling himself. Feeling my stare, he glanced down at me and smirked when your gazes locked. I quickly looked away, and tried to quell my sudden embarrassment. "Where did you come from, Mister Whitlock?" I asked, trying to distract myself.

He carried on, as though we were old friends sharing a conversation. "South," he said, "very south. I've been running for days, without stopping. I lost my shoes in a creek, and a bear tore my shirt to bits when I stumbled into his in Colorado." He looked down at me and smiled.

I felt the urge to return it, but fought it successfully. "Why did you leave the south?"

Pain flickered across his face, and I had a glimpse of what Edward perhaps saw. _What is he running from?_ "I..." – he paused for several seconds – "wanted a change of scenery."

I nodded slowly, knowing that that was all the answer I would receive. "I can empathize on that matter."

Our steps were slow, unusually slow, and I didn't feel the need to quicken them. Silence stretched for a moment, and when I glanced up I found him staring as I had been. I quickly looked away again, becoming interested in the snow-dusted pines that we walked among.

"You are not young. You've lived for a long time," he declared.

His observation was sharp. "Yes. I was born in 1778, in Boston."

"Born...?"

I watched the confusion in his crimson eyes. "Haven't you already determined that I'm not exactly human, nor vampire?" I asked wryly.

"You are both, then," he determined, but his tone was cautious.

"Yes – _both_." I chucked at his choice of phrasing.

"I'm not as old," he continued. "I was born in 1844. In Texas. But I was turned in 1863."

"You must have grown up as a human during the War," I commented gravely.

His face became grave. "I did. I served in the Army as an officer."

My curiosity peaked. I hadn't been in America during the war, and didn't know the details of the fighting outside of historical mentions. "What was you rank?"

"Major." His brow furrowed as if this troubled him. Then, wanting to chance the subject of our conversation, "How about you? What's in your past?"

I hesitated before answering, feeling a subtle pang at the memories that his question provoked. Carlisle was my past; he's consumed the better part of my life. "Nothing of note," I said vaguely, once again feeling his discontent.

I was surprised when I spied the cabin in front of us. I hadn't realized that we traveled so far.

Mister Whitlock was grinning as he looked at it. "How quaint. Did you build it?"

Hiding my offense was out of the question. "No. _We_ found it – Edward and I."

"How long have you two... been in each other's company?" he asked, dusting the snow from the porch rail.

"A week and a day to date. We traveled here from Illinois, where we met in Chicago."

"Oh... so you don't know him well. You appeared to be very close." His expression was almost perplexed, as though he missed in important detail.

"No, I do not know him well. Though he knows most everything about me, I suspect." I tapped my temple twice with the tip of finger. "You experienced his gift first hand, apparently."

He laughed humorlessly. "I suppose I did."

I stepped up the dark steps of the porch, careful of the ice crusted upon the wood. I pushed open the door, and my body sighed at the rush of warmth that greeted me. Stepping inside, I peeked back at Mister Whitlock, who stood motionlessly at the bottom of the steps. "Won't you come in." I'd meant to say it as a question, but it came out more imperatively.

"It's very small," he stated warily.

"Yes, it is small." Slight color filled my cheeks when I realized what struggle he was hinting at. His control would be tested if we were together in a small space. If he has any control at all... "Y-You don't have to -"

"No," he interrupted, ducking his head to clear the doorway. "There's no problem."

I stood back as he passed the threshold, and a rush of uncertainty filled me. _I didn't know this man. I can't predict the result if a circumstance arises._ "I-If you would prefer..."

His eyes did a quick sweep of the living room, and then came to rest on me. "Don't worry," he said, with a voice like silk. "Everything's fine."

And I suddenly decided that everything was fine. My previous fears disappeared like a drop of water on a hot pan. It seemed almost foolish of me to have doubted before. "Of course," I sighed, smiling in agreement.

Snapping out of my trace a moment later, I turned my back to him and bit my lip. I couldn't be sure where my feelings were coming from... if I was I who controlled them. I bent over the hearth wordlessly, scraping the ash for the front and placing new logs on the old ones. I took the coarse stones from the mantle and struck them once, sparking the fire.

When I turned around, the stranger had taken a seat of the couch. His arm was dangled across the back casually, and his eyes were expressionless as they gazed into the young fire in the hearth. My eyes were drawn to the bare skin of his chest and shoulders. Even though his skin looked soft and smooth, I knew that it would feel cold and hard under my fingertips. I felt the sudden urge to run my hands around his bare shoulders... down his chest to the crevice of his abdomen, and then around his back... then up between his shoulder blades...

I quickly dispelled the thoughts, feeling embarrassed again. I stooped to open my leather bag beside the couch, and pulled out a heavy jacket. I held it out for him to take. "Please put this on." He nodded, his expression hidden as before, and pulled his arms through the sleeves. They were tight on his wrists, and my eyes now lingered on his broad hands.

I slowly sat on the low stool beside the hearth, and folded my hands in my lap. "Mister Whitlock..."

His voice was deeper than before. "Yes?"

"What did you intend for me in the forest? Where you trying to... where you going to..." I couldn't force the words out.

He was silent for several moments. "I apologize. I didn't know you."

_I was going to become his meal... after..._ "I see." Unprovoked moisture filled the rims of my eyes. I blinked rapidly.

I heard him rise from the couch, but my eyes were pinned to the floor.

My throat constricted as I fought within myself. I hadn't cried for many years; my heart had been hardened long ago. However, emotions of despair and loneliness broke free in my chest, as though a dam had burst from its inhibitions. _My father must have been much like this man..._ "What are you _doing_?" I croaked, lifting my hands to hold my face. "Are _you_ doing this?"

"No... uh, yes. I-I don't know - I'm sorry." His voice was close, but I couldn't bring myself to look up.

Tears flowed like water into my hands, yet my shoulders stayed very still. I wasn't used to handling such strong emotion. "Please stop," I mumbled.

"S-Stop? I don't think I..."

"Just take it away, please," I whispered. I took my hands away, and saw how wet they were. I dried my eyes and looked at Mister Whitlock, who had come to kneel beside me. His face looked almost as pained as I felt. I wondered if my face looked the same.

"Yes, I can do that." Slowly, he lifted his hand to my face, and gently cupped my damp cheek.

Our eyes stayed together for a full minute, without blinking. During that time, all the sorrow that filled my soul slowly drained from my body. I relaxed in my seat, leaning my chin on the palm of his hand. More time ticked away as I gazed into his eyes, feeling as though I could remain there indefinitely. I felt my eyelids slip, and a small smile tugged at my lips. For once... I felt free of my painful memories... free of _him_...

I remember slouching, and then I remember lying flat on my back. But what I couldn't recall was the gentle lips that brushed my cheek... just before dark oblivion took me...

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><p><strong>Please review if you haven't already! I <em>crave<em> feedback...**

**Next time: "Ice Skates and Rooftops."  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**


	24. Chapter 22: Ice Skates and Rooftops

**Thank you, tedmynameisfred, TeamComrade11, NightWing101, and TykiPyon for the reviews/alerts/favs. _You guys are awesome!_**

**For those of you who are interested, I've started a story with Carlisle's POV of Part 1. It's called "Her Beautiful Trail of Blood." You can check it out on my profile if you'd like. Be sure to review so I can improve or change anything.**

**Enjoy this new chapter. As you already know, I didn't proofread this. Oh well...  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**

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><p><strong>Chapter 22: Ice Skates and Rooftops<strong>

_December 24th 1927, 8:23am_

_Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness, Washington_

Weeks passed, unprovoked. The days slipped by so quickly that I barely saw them go. Edward gave me vague and confusing responses whenever I asked about Mister Whitlock. The latter lingered in the area surrounding the cabin, and visited with me often. The weather had become nearly unbearable, so I spent my time indoors, reading and otherwise occupying my time. Edward brought supplies from the town of Walla Walla periodically. Which, unfortunately, led him to _feed_ from there periodically.

It was a particular winter day that Edward claimed to be thirsty. I threw daggers with my eyes and thoughts as he left into the cold morning. About half an hour after he left, Mister Whitlock knocked on the cabin door. I called for him to enter, and he did so.

I was pulling yo's of yarn with a crochet needle, for a new set of mittens. I hadn't seen the need to own a pair before, but with the frigid temperatures of the realm, it seem nearly impossible to function without them. _Yo, yo, hook, pull, chain; yo, yo hook, pull, chain..._

"That must be very boring."

I chained off a row and turned the half-mitten over to start a new one. "Perhaps at first, but it becomes rather monotonous." I glanced over at him - he'd taken a seat on the opposite end of the couch. However, when I set my crochet aside, he took it as an invitation to close the gap between us. He set me on edge by throwing his arm above my shoulders, on the back of the couch.

His sweet and subtle scent was very close, and I tentatively turned my head up to meet his eyes. I smiled, forcing my eyes not to drift to the scars visible on his neck.

Though I hadn't noticed the first day I met him, Mister Whitlock was very marred on his arms, torso, and neck. So similar to my own scars, he showed me the marks on his arms and told me that he'd gotten them in battle. Though he told me little of his past, I often speculated about him. He's said that he fought in the Civil War as an officer, but how did he receive the wounds? Most definably _after_ his change, but to what end? My curiosity was never satisfied.

"I was thinking, Cora..." I tried to ignore the fact that he twirled a lock of my hair between his fingers. _He's always touching me somehow..._ "We should do something for the holiday."

I nearly rolled my eyes. He'd invented a "nickname" for me, as he put it. My Christian name was a "mouthful," he had said. He took the first blend of my name, and the last letter to form "Cora." It held little resemblance to my true name, and I disliked the strange ring to it. He fancied it, however.

"What holiday?" I asked naïvely. His eyes widened at my ignorance, and it was only then that I noticed their mustard-red color. "Mister Whitlock!" I exclaimed in surprise, "your eyes! Have you changed your mind after all?"

He scowled and looked away. "Don't get your hopes up. I was just too thirsty to wait, that's all."

Nonetheless, I smiled suitably. I preached relentlessly to them; pleading for them to live as I did. Edward was unbreakable in that regard – his mind was set against it. Mister Whitlock had been more amenable to the suggestion, but he wasn't willing to put the theory to test. I kept up the faith, in patient hope. "Very well," I sighed. "You'll see my perspective when it's too late, Mister Whitlock."

"Back to the matter at hand," he said briskly, seeming to ignore my observation. "Don't you know what day it is?"

I shook my head. I'd fallen behind in time-keeping several days before.

"It's the Eve of _Christmas_, Cora. The holiday of those humans that you love so much?" he said mockingly.

"Oh," I deadpanned, disregarding his comment. "Of course..." _Is it the end of the month already?_

"Do you know what color your eyes are?" he asked suddenly, holding my gaze steadily. "They were green when I met you, but now they're all golden."

I blinked twice, and the corner of his lips turned up. "Well... I've been hunting recently. My eyes change color with my diet – human and non." I looked away; the heat of his scrutiny was unsettling.

"So, for the holiday...," he said presently. Like a child with a toy, he doodled invisible shapes of the back of my hand, which was resting in my lap. His cool fingertip set shivers up through me and back again. "Since Edward's away, we can go play somewhere together." He flashed a smile, and I stifled a giggle in my hand.

Edward had been... overprotective of me. He was distrustful of Mister Whitlock for all good reasons, and he constantly worried about his company with me. It was puzzling to me – Edward had been the one to allow Mister Whitlock to stay, yet he was also wary of him.

Mister Whitlock's personal reason for saying eluded me as well. Since the first "encounter" I had with him, I'd spent my time picking up the broken pieces of my dignity. However, it was nearly impossible to feel awkward or uncomfortable around him, compliments of his unique gift.

"That sounds fine, Mister Whitlock," I replied, frowning when he rolled his eyes. "What is it?"

"I've told you," he drawled, "to call me _Jasper_."

His playful glare was almost frightening. "Mister –"

"Say 'Jasper,'" he pressed.

"Jas...per." The name was smooth on my tongue, and I had to smiled as I repeated it. "Jasper."

His smile was genuine, and I felt the small trickle of delight seep into me.

I'd asked him pointedly to forgo using his power over me. We'd both been a bit hesitant of each other, after the... situation in the woods. However, he said that it sometimes was quite by accident. If he felt a large amount of some emotion, it often split to others around him. He blamed it on a lack of control, and Edward blamed it on incompetence. I didn't know what to make of it, though it unsettled me immensely. I didn't know what emotions were my own, and what had been incited there by Mister Whit – ...Jasper.

"It isn't far," he insisted, rising. "You could probably run there yourself." He held out a hand to help me from my seat.

Taking it, I stood. "Very well. Could I ask what 'it' is?"

"No. You'll see shortly." He smirked at my stoic face.

I managed to take hold of my coat from the stand as he practically dragged me out the door. His hand was securely closed over mine, as though I were a dangerous prisoner hoping to escape. The day was overcast and breezy, and the cold air stung like tiny icicles on my face. He didn't allow me the convenience of tying my hair up, so it drifted around my shoulders in the breeze. I'd cut it short over a decade ago, but it once again was far down my back to my waist.

What concerned me greatly was the coarse-grain sack that he carried over his shoulder. I couldn't make out the shapes occupying the sack, but my mind imagined the worst. I followed him at a distance for about two miles, and then stopped. I leaned my weight on my knees and watched my panting breath cloud in front of me.

"What's wrong?" he asked, standing over me.

"I... I..." I stood erect and collected my hair from the wind. The frosty air still nipped at my flushed cheeks, and I felt my sinuses becoming blocked from the climate. "I can't run... my chest... hurts." I tried to slow my heavy breathing, but my sore lungs screamed for more oxygen. "It's just too cold," I explained pitifully.

Jasper frowned deeply, and held his chin as he surveyed me. "So, you cannot run... because it's too cold."

"Yes," I breathed. "You needn't bear with me... if you don't wish to."

Then, suddenly, he laughed loudly. "Could you repeat that, perchance?" he asked with glint in his eye.

"You... needn't bear with me if you don't wish to...?" I said uncertainly.

He tried to stifle chuckles.

My brow furrowed. "What...!" I exclaimed, slight offended. "Is there a problem?"

"You need to update your speech manner, Cora." He smiled wryly. "You sound like you're from 1803."

I shrank from embarrassment. "Is it rather obvious?"

"It's _very_ obvious. This is the twentieth century, after all."

_If he was born in 1844, then he would be..._ "And who are you to talk?" I demanded, motioning to him vaguely. "You speak as an 83-year-old man!"

His taunting smile dimmed. "Yes, but..." He hesitated for only a moment, and then grinned complacently. "_I_ have taken the time to assimilate to new eras of culture. You, on the other hand, retain your formal way of speaking, and even the same attire." Smugly, he gestured to my clothes.

I gasped in insult. "I do not! These are quite new!" I looked down at my faded brown linens and my frayed leather riding habit. I couldn't recall when I'd acquired them, nor the tailored slacks I sported underneath. Haughtily, I turned my glare upon him. "And you?" I flung a hand at his apparel. "From what period do you describe _that_?"

His clothes were not new or old. His weathered leather boots looked as though they were issued with his commission in the Army. His pants were rather fashionable for the time, make of thick cotton in a pinstripe pattern. His coat was another story, with plates of grey tartan running across his chest and shoulders. I'd estimate the year to be around the turn of the century for the production of such suits. His shirt was crisp, though, and his collar was straight without a tie. His hair was unattended and uncovered; an almost rude exploit in the presence of a lady.

I sniffed primly, turning up my chin in mock-offense. "If you're to judge me, then you must see the beam in your eye, Mister..." I caught myself quickly. "Jasper," I amended.

He only laughed, and raised his hand behind my elbow. He pushed me forward, and we walked along together. "But there is none to judge the both of us alike, so I must concede to you, milady."

I'd caught my breath just in time to snort loudly. "It would do you well, sir."

We continued this way for quite a time. The winter landscape stretched out before us in a never-ending scene. _Where are we going?_ My curiosity fought for dominance with every step. I was sure he could sense it - he just chose to ignore it. The mystery of our destination and the contents of the sack taunted me.

Finally, after walking several more miles east, I caught sight of it. "A lake? But it's frozen over," I noted, looking out over the spacious white surface. Shrubs and tall grass lined the banks, frozen in crystalline figures. The wind stirred the snow on the ice, and wisps of it drifted across the solid lake.

"Yes, it _is_ frozen over." The teasing tone he used made me look at him. A devious smile adorned his features. "Won't you sit?" he presumed, seeping an arm towards a fallen limb near the bank of the lake. It made for an uncomfortable sitting place.

Uncertainly, I stepped through the snow and sat. I braced my hands on either side of myself to keep from tipping forward or backward on the narrow log. "What's all this, Mister Whitlock?"

He knelt by the bench and loosened the pull string of the sack he'd carried. I watched curiously as he reached inside and pulled something out. Two pieces of wood, with metal straps on one end of each. On the bottom, there were two matching blades, dull from wear or design. I didn't recognize their purpose. "What are they?" I asked.

He glanced up and smiled, extracting a matting pair of boards from the sack. "You don't know?" He held a set out for me to take. I eyed them warily. "They're for skating on ice," he explained simply.

I stared at him as though he was mad.

"You strap them on your shoes," he said, retracting his hand. He unclasped the strap on one of the boards, and took a hold of my leather-clad ankle. I stared as he aligned the wood with the sole of my boot, and he met my eyes with amusement in his own. "Haven't you ever been skating?"

My mind slowly digested the facts. _With a small slip of wood, one can skate upon the surface of ice._ _For what purpose?_ "Must we cross the ice? Why not walk around it?"

He chuckled again, lighter this time. I couldn't help but smile. "It's for enjoyment, Cora." He eased my ankle into the metal strap and secured it. "For _fun_?" When he was finished with that foot, he took the other and fashioned it the same way.

I shuffled my wooden feet on the ground, watching the vertical prints that they made in the snow. Then I looked up, and found that he'd fitted his own boards on his shoes. "It doesn't sound 'fun'," I sighed. Standing on the boards was awkward, and I nearly lost my balance.

Jasper caught my elbow to steady me. "It _is_, trust me. I can't believe you've never done it before."

I waddled after him toward the ice, partly wishing that his hand was still there to hold me straight. "And you have?"

"Only twice," he said, walking backwards so he could see me. "It's a holiday tradition, Cora. You'll like it."

It took me a moment to realize that he was no long walking backwards, but _sliding_ backwards; however, it was already too late. The next step I took slid out from under me, and I stumbled forward. Vampire agility or not, it was unnatural to slip on flat surfaces. I held my hands out to steady myself, but my legs wobbled on the ice and gave out. Just before I hit the hard ground, Jasper caught my shoulders from behind and set me upright. "Whoa, steady there," he chuckled.

I breathed heavily, and willed my heart to stop pounding. "Th-That... that wasn't normal," I said in a shaky voice. I laughed with him after a moment; my voice sounded ridiculous to my own ears.

"I won't let you fall," he assured, ceasing his laughter. "You'll get used to it."

We slid forward slowly on the smooth ice, suspended by the blades on our feet. I began to adjust to the idea as Jasper's hands rested on my shoulders, and I even shuffled my feet back and forth a little. "All right..." I frowned in concentration. "Let me see..."

Suddenly, his hands disappeared. I felt ten points of pressure on my back, and they pushed me forward lightly. I slid across the ice, flailing my arms in an attempt to stop. Jasper caught my hand from in front this time, and pulled me up before I fell. His hand was almost the same temperature against my bare skin, due to the cold. He took both of my hands in his, and pulled me along by skating backwards again. "I take it you weren't ready?"

My eyes darted from my skidding feet to his smiling face. _He enjoying this... how dare he._ "No," I snapped. "Don't let go, if you please. I cannot stand on my own." I felt a sudden burst of chagrin when I realized the double meaning.

He laughed, at either my words or my feelings. "I'll be here."

And he was. We skated for hours without stopping, until I was brave enough to venture out on my own. I skated around the lake in a slow oval, careful of frozen leaves or pine needles along the way. Jasper was more adventurous, and sped around the lake at speeds greater than human ability. He felt my envy soon enough, and slowed his pace to match my own. I rested my hand in the crook of his elbow, and we skated along side by side. As the sky dimmed of light, I grew tired from the cold.

"Just once more, Jasper," I said wearily. "I cannot feel my own toes."

He pulled us in a lazy figure-8 and then guided us to the snowy bank. We removed our ice skates, and he replaced them in the sack. I felt disheartened at the thought of traveling the ten or so miles back to the cabin.

"You don't have to stay with me this time, Jasper," I told him as we began west. "I'll find my way."

He watched me uncertainly. "You're exhausted. There's green in your eyes; that means you're hungry again."

I smiled at his simple statement. "You're correct. I do need some nourishment."

"Then you should return home quickly." He paused, and watched our feet make prints in the snow. "How to get Cora home...," he mused softly. I shook my head, smiling still, and then he snapped his fingers. "A bobsled... with a team of wolves."

I laughed softly, and lifted my skirt to step through a large snowdrift. "That would hardly due with all the trees..."

"Alright, then. Hmmm... An airplane to fly you there." His tone was light and joking.

I smiled. "Where would it land?"

"Oh! I've got it," he said, taking my hand so I would stop. I looked at him, and mirrored his soft smile. "I shall carry you, milady," he declared.

"With what palanquin?" I giggled. However, the expression on his face told me that he was no longer joking. "You're not... serious...?"

"In my arms, or on my back - which do you prefer?" Though his words were serious, his expression was mocking.

I sputtered like a fish out of water, and the only intelligible fragment that he chose to hear was "back." He firmly grasped my hand, and swung me in such a way that had me grabbing at the back of his neck for support. My body dangled limply down his back, my feet about a foot off the ground. I dug my knees into his sides, as one would do in riding a horse bare-back.

"P-Please put me down," I complained immediately.

"But you've told me," he said over her shoulder, "you are tired."

"I'll manage -!" I gasped when he began running slowly, and clutched my arms around his neck. "Jasper, _please_!"

"It won't be long if I run," he called. "Just hang on!"

The air felt razor-sharp as he broke into a full run, and it bit at my exposed skin. I shut my eyes, and buried my nose in his collar to wait it out. Yes, he was right - it wouldn't take long with his pace. Before I knew it, his steps were slowing, and the wind dyed away. I cracked an eye, and loosened my hold on him. I slid down his back, and his strong hands guided my waist to the ground. I stepped twice, regaining gravity, and thanked him briskly.

The clouds that had been drifting thinner and thinner during the day were now dismembered puffs across the evening sky. The sun was nowhere to be seen, and early night stars twinkled in the cloud-stained sky. Deep purple at its highest point, the heavens domed above us in progressively darker shades from the light blue horizon.

When I brought my eyes back from the sky, I found that Jasper had lighted to the roof. I blinked. "Why?" was all I said.

He crouched low on the eave and reached a hand down to me. "Climb up, Cora. You'll see the sky better from here." He grinned.

Smiling softly, I took hold of his hand. He pulled me up slowly, and helped me sit at the awkward angle on the wooden roof slats. I braced my hands against it to keep from sliding off. "You know," I whispered, feeling the need to, "This must be my day of firsts, because I've never been on the roof of a house before, either."

Shock was evident on his face. "Is that possible?"

"Very," I laughed. "Why on earth would I need to climb to the top of a house?"

Our laughter seemed louder in the still night air, and the sound of it echoed in the tree trunks and pine branches. I watched the crescent moon drift out from behind a small cloud, and the beams cast looming shadows through the forest. I felt my heart sigh in peace, and I knew it was my very own. Then more clouds came, and sealed the gentle light from the world again.

"Thank you, Jasper."

His eyes fell from the sky to rest on my face, and he smiled. "For what?"

"Today," I replied, sighing softly. "I haven't had 'fun' in a very long time until today."

He nodded knowingly. "Anytime."

As quietness fell again, I reflected upon the experiences that I'd gathered in my life thus far. Few were "fun"; most were either painful or haunting. My only memories that held any joy involved... a particular individual. A familiar sadness invaded me at the thought, polluting my peace. It was caused by fear, I determined - fear of loneliness. What I'd had with... him... was lost so easily. Like a flame exposed to the wind, or a life stomped out by war. I feared being left alone again. My face hardened, and I fought against those dark memories that were my life.

"What's the matter?" his soft voice asked.

I snapped out of my thoughts, and sniffled. "No, it's... it's just the cold." I rubbed my nose and blinked to clear my hazy vision.

He didn't respond; of course he felt my deception. _He feels everything. _"Can I ask you something, Jasper?"

"Anything," he said immediately.

I hesitated for only a moment, and turned my gaze away from him. The familiar sight of the stars comforted me, and gave me the strength to keep my voice from shaking. "Have you ever loved someone, Jasper?" I looked at him to see his reaction.

His eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second, and I glimpsed a small portion of his heart in that moment. _Yes, he has._ "No," he said distantly, turning away. "I've never known love."

I nodded. "It's better that way, I believe." I heard the heavy breath of a deer, running about half a mile away. My thirst flared as I caught the scent, and I remembered how famished I was.

"Shakespeare would disagree..." He cleared his throat, and his voice took on a theatrical quality. "'It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all'," he quoted dramatically.

I smiled at his words, and let my eyes drift to his face. The moonbeams lit his features in silver light, and his eyes glowed orange-red. His light hair appeared silver in the evening illumination, but his face was soft and happy. My eyes darted to his lips, where his content smile lay. My heart lifted from its mire, and I didn't stop to realize whether Jasper had used his gift or not.

"You may be right, Mister Whitlock..."

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><p><strong>That dedication was so fun last chapter, I think I'll do it again. I will write the next chapter in honor of whoever pens the thirty-fifth review.<br>**

**Next time: "The Confession and the Conviction."**

**-Scarlet**


	25. Chapter 23: The Confession

**Thank you, Udumuhv** **and BiShiE-HuNtEr2804, for the reviews! And thanks to WatchThisShit for the Fav.**

**I know **_**The Phantom of the Opera**_** was originally published in French, but let's make-believe that it's English translation was released by 1927. What's a phan-girl to do...?**

**Sorry about the time leap down there. I suppose this Ed/Cora scene could have been apart of the last chapter. It kinda makes this one a filler, but... Oh well.** I'll get the next chapter all spiffy in a hurry since that is shorter.****** Enjoy. ****  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 23: The Confession and the Conviction<strong>

_December 24th 1927, 11:24pm_

_Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness, Washington_

I sipped my dark tea and flipped the sixty-fourth page of C. S. Lewis' _The Magician's Nephe_w. The fire grumbled from the heath, having been lit for hours. I was propped up by several blankets, resting long ways on the living room sofa. The atmosphere was quiet and peaceful; I couldn't even tell there was a vampire sitting on the floor beside me, reading as well.

It hadn't been until much later that evening that Edward returned from his "hunt." Jasper had long bid me goodnight, after he'd declared that the smell of my seeping tea leaves was "beyond tolerance."

For safety, I'd kept the day's events carefully from my thoughts. I was unsure if Edward would approve, and what he would say if he found out. It wasn't as though I couldn't make decisions on my own... but I'd come to value Edward's opinion. He would misconstrue and misunderstand... he didn't see Jasper in the right –

"Will you please move on?"

I startled a bit, since he hadn't spoken in so many hours. I looked down at him, and he gazed up curiously. "I beg your pardon?"

His brow furrowed as though the problem was obvious. "You've read that same sentence seven times now. 'But though the Queen spoke so calmly, her movement were as quick as thought.'"

I looked back to the page of my book, seeing words instead of greyish blocks. "Oh... of course." I tried to focus on reading, as well as keeping my thoughts neutral. The feat proved challenging.

"Cornelia?" I unwillingly dragged my eyes to his face. "What's wrong?"

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Edward, I –" _Don't want to tell you._

"Don't want to tell me what?" He was concerned now.

"Um... nothing," I backpedaled. "Nothing at all." _About Jasper._

"What about Jasper?"

I growled softly, and let my head fall into my lap in a very unladylike manner. "I don't want to tell you about it," I mumbled. And, of course, pictures of latter activities filled my mind.

"Ah," he said after a moment. Though I couldn't see his reaction, I heard him face away. "Merry Christmas. I'd forgotten about the holiday as well."

I glanced up to find him reading once again. I watched his bright scarlet gaze travel in rapid lines across each page, which he turned approximately every twenty seconds. From the context, I recognized the novel as _The Phantom of the Opera_ by Gaston Leroux. I'd yet to read the book.

"You should – it's very good." His tone was smug.

I scoffed, and turned back to my own book. _Can't you stop listening for just a moment?_

"No."

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

I took a deep breath of morning air as I stepped outside. I didn't bother closing the cabin door behind myself as the weather was so mild. Taking a long look at the blue sky, I descended the porch steps and began walking into the trees.

"Wonderful day, isn't it?" Edward commented, appearing from nowhere to walk by me.

I glanced at him minutely. "Quite. Springtime is coming quickly... I may have to begin a garden soon."

"A garden in mid-February? That seems unlikely to keep..."

"You'd be surprised what my green thumb can do... I once grew potatoes in late November." I smiled proudly, and he chuckled.

We strolled along for no reason whatsoever, simply enjoying the day. The past weeks had elapsed without a care. I'd read all the books in the cabin, and even taken up quilting and embroidery. The place held a particular peace for me; a vacation from the helter-skelter of my life. My time had passed pleasantly, and I looked forward to each day.

I looked up at Edward's profile, and his red eyes darted to my face. "Have you seen Jasper lately?" I asked him.

"Not since last month...," he trailed off, glancing away. "Why do you ask?"

_Must you ask why I ask?_ I smiled quizzically.

"No," he sighed. "I'll find out eventually."

I laughed, and the sound reverberated through the open space between the pines. "You're not wrong, Edward. However, I shall attempt to thwart you," I bantered, smiling.

He hummed complacently. "It is useless, you will –" he stopped suddenly, and his steps fell behind.

I paused and turned back, curious. "What is it, Edward?"

"Where have you been all this time?" he murmured, half to himself, gazing to the south.

Seconds later, a familiar scent reached me. I felt myself smile. _He's back._

"Well, well... how funny finding you two here." I turned toward the voice, and I felt a knot in my stomach when I saw him leaning against a tree, arms crossed, smirk in place. "Is it common for the likes of you to be wandering the forest?"

Edward glanced at me; the look was cautious. _What's Jasper thinking?_ "Hello, Jasper," I greeted brightly. "What brings you here?"

When he moved closer, a spot of sunshine danced off his bare forearm. I noticed that he'd secured some clean clothes, which made me wonder where he acquired them. "Just making sure Edward didn't eat you while I was gone, Cora." His voice was only half-joking.

I felt Edward sulking beside me, but I laughed nonetheless. "Everything's fine. Where have you been?"

He shrugged, and watched Edward with dancing eyes. "Here and there... Nowhere as exciting as this," he said with false earnestness, motioning around.

I glanced between the two; Edward's face was stoic as he glared through Jasper's friendly demeanor. Becoming nervous, I stepped forward to break the connection. They both looked at me when I spoke, "Not this again... please."

They hadn't been the best of chums over the time of our company. Edward tolerated Jasper's free spirit for a reason beyond me, but I had a theory why Jasper put up with Edward's indifference. I'd sensed it before - he was more interested in me than he should have been. So, I'd been puzzled when he suddenly disappeared those weeks ago.

"Cora, may I speak with you?" Jasper asked through his teeth. I could tell he was trying to hide something from Edward.

And Edward was desperately searching for it. "He means 'alone', Cornelia," Edward said harshly, in response to my suddenly confused thoughts.

I was hesitant, unwilling to choose a side. "Er... yes." I ignored Edward's fervent gaze and turned to Jasper. "Shall we?" I motioned to the northeast.

"Thank you." Jasper nodded amiably to Edward, but the pleasantry was not returned.

We walked until I knew Edward couldn't hear or "hear" us. Jasper's steps were urgent, yet patient at the same time. I felt the strange mix of his eagerness and hesitation. My head nearly spun with it. "What's the matter, Jasper?" I asked impatiently. His jitters had rubbed off on me.

He stopped walking, and turned to me fully, mouth open to speak. However, no sound came out. As waited for him to collect his words, I noticed something that I shouldn't have overlooked before. "Jasper!" I smiled hugely, feeling my own burst of satisfaction. "Your eyes! They're lovely."

His mouth clamped shut, and his jaw set. He held up a scolding finger. "This is only temporary -" he began.

"Thank goodness you finally came to your senses!" I exclaimed, taking his raised hand in both of mine and squeezing it tight. "Don't you feel marvelous?"

His honeydew eyes rested on my hands, clasped over his. They raised to my own when he spoke, "Yes, Cora... I suppose I do."

"How long ago did you stop? It must have been weeks - there isn't a trace of red in your eyes." I watched his forbearing features, and wished I could see his thoughts.

"No long ago," he said quickly, obviously disliking the topic. "But this isn't what I wanted to talk to you about." His eyes were pleading.

My brow furrowed, and I dropped my hands to my sides. "All right... what is it?"

He wet his lips, a very human habit. "I... haven't been completely honest with you, and... I'd like to make that right."

For a slight moment, I was reminded of churchgoers confessing to a priest. His face was so filled with guilt and penitence that I imagined a terrible sin. _He's never been this way before._ "You may tell me anything you wish, Jasper." I nodded encouragingly.

"Well... it's like this." A new emotion dominated his expression, and he gently rested his hand on my shoulders. I relaxed under his touch, feeling the full effect of his power. "I would like to get to know you better." His words were rushed, but his tone was sincere.

I was perplexed at first, but then the subtle meaning slowly seeped in. He wanted a closer relationship with me. To what end, I could not know. I smiled in understanding. "I'd like that as well, Jasper. Of course."

We laughed at the situation, and I felt a sublime giddiness fill me when I looked into his golden eyes. I had been years since I'd seen the hue... other than in my own mind. It suited him, I decided, with his blond hair and striking features. We talked about springtime and gardens as he escorted me home.

_I knew I'd rub off on him... just like he affects me._ I blushed at my own thoughts, and thanked my lucky stars that Edward was far away.

Finally... Jasper had been convicted.

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><p><strong>I didn't get my review quota for the dedication, so I've decided to start handing out these cookies. <strong>**(::) So, review... It has chocolate chips!**

**Thanks for reading. Next time: "Stolen Kiss." (Uh-oh!)  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**


	26. Chapter 24: Stolen Kiss

**Thanks for reviewing, NightWing101, BiShiE-HuNtEr2804, and TeamComrade11! No they did not "do it" in the last chapter. Sorry if that was implied... the year is 1928, after all. However, I'm not totally discounting the possiblility that they might... later...**

**Here's another upload, because you're so awesome. Mind the typos; this is hot off the press. It all comes down in this chapter. Enjoy.**

**-Scarlet**

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><p><strong>Chapter 24: Stolen Kiss<strong>

_February 31st 1928, sunrise_

_Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness, Washington_

It was the end of the month by the time I caught my breath. Nothing much had changed since Jasper returned; I only saw a small difference in him. The change was not only his choice of sustenance, but his countenance as well. It was as though he'd left to decide something very important (feeding from animals, perhaps) and he returned to fulfill his commitment. The only thing that bothered me was his lack of enthusiasm... he didn't want to live as I did.

One particular day, I was teaching him how to detect different scents in the forest. He was ill out of tracking practice, and I felt his irritation of his lack of skill. I only laughed, and told him that everyone must begin from the bottom.

The area being so plentiful with wildlife, it wasn't long until an elk stumbled across us all of its own. I crouched in the ferns several yards away and watched its neck gracefully dip into the tall spring grass. The dew from the bushes soaked into the hem of my skirt and dotted my face when I brushed against it. I glanced at Jasper; he looked as though I'd handed him a rotten egg.

"Be quiet and quick...," I whispered. "He won't see you coming."

He wrinkled his nose and swallowed. "I don't want to do this."

"_Jasper,_" I hissed. "You hunted cougar just last week."

"Yes," he agreed lowly, "I did. But that was... _cleaner_."

I bit my lip. Every time Jasper hesitated, I worried for the promise he made me. _Does he really want this? Or is he just playing along... _"There's no such thing as _dirty_ or _clean_ prey, Jasper."

He sighed, and half-stood from his crouch. He looked down at me, and then back at the elk with a determination on his face. He shot forward, taking the elk by surprise, and sunk his teeth into its shoulder. I winced as the animal cried out and writhed from the pain. I ran to the scene, and placed one hand under the creatures chin and one on the back of its neck. In one smooth motion, the animal was put out of its pain. It wasn't long after that Jasper finished and, with a blood-stained shirt, he stopped and stared at me.

"Why did you do that?"

I blinked. _Isn't it rather obvious?_ "Why? To put it out of its misery, of course." I crossed my arms, offended. "Have you ever been bitten in the shoulder before? It isn't pleasant..."

"Why yes, I have...," he drawled, pulled at the soiled material of his shirt. "But I've never been an elk before." He looked up under his lashes and chuckled, and I fought against the utter ease that crept in on me.

"You're helpless..." I turned away and blinked rapidly. It broke my heart that he took my convictions so lightly.

"However..." He lightly spun me around by the shoulders, and his eyes were apologetic when I met them. "The fact that the elk felt nothing as I took its life was a miracle."

The term "felt" threw me for a moment, until a realized he spoke of mental pain rather than physical. Whereas I was worried about the elk _experiencing_ pain, in reality, it _felt_ nothing at all. Jasper had once confided in me the terrible emotions one experiences when losing their life. He hadn't told me much more, because I'd implored him not to. The thought of human loss alone turned my stomach.

I smiled. "Jasper... this is a wonderful gift."

He laughed again, as though it were of no value; but his voice held feeling, "You can't possibly know... how it feels – the peace." His eyes shone with relief. "It's more than anything...," he trailed off, and simply smiled down at me.

I took his hand in mine, even though it was damp with blood, and twined our fingers together. "You will never be the same, Jasper. Once you've experienced this" – I rose our hands between us – "you cannot return to the old way." I desperately hoped that my words reached him._  
><em>

We stared at each other for a long moment, and I suddenly realized the rather intimate atmosphere I'd created. I felt my stomach twist into knots, and my hand loosened around his. He held fast, however, and stepped even closer. A burst of nerves made my heart skip a beat. "Cora... might I ask you something?"

My breaths came closer together; it felt like the oxygen had evaporated from the atmosphere. Words failed me, so my head bobbed up and down.

"That night on the roof... what were you thinking?"

_Anything but that –!_ "You know what I was feeling, Jasper." My voice wavered, so I tried to put some effort into it. "That's all you require."

His fingers tightened around mine for a second, and he closed his eyes as if catching himself from anger. "No." His voice was almost desperate. "It's not enough..."

I was becoming indignant, but his closeness had made me edgy. "Then you must accept that, Jasper."

"I only ask," he continued, "because you confuse me so very much, Cora. Your actions, your feelings – they don't make sense to me. This, for instance..."

He rose his hand, and brushed his fingertips across my cheek. I shivered at the gesture, so foreign to me, and tried to step away. His other hand held me there.

"...It seems to disturb you, but your emotions suggest otherwise."

I met his eyes, questioning and curious as they gazed down at me. He dropped his hand from my face, and waited for me to respond. I was stricken speechless... He was digging in an area of my life that I usually kept locked away. That I shoved into a corner and refused to remember. He was asking about Carlisle. "Jasper... I don't –" my voice stuck in my throat.

He released my hand and stepped away. "You don't have to answer. I know how much the past hurts sometimes." His eyes drifted to the ground, but I noticed how they hesitated on the bare skin of my forearm.

It wasn't often that I wore short-sleeved clothes; I usually hid the scars that haunted me. Raising my arm, I looked at the two marks the inside of my arm, on the soft skin there; how they overlapped into a twisted oval. I didn't bother hiding the sadness that rose up within me. I'd received the first over a hundred years before, when I tarried with Lakota's tribe. The other was newer – more ghastly because of it – and had been obtained within the decade.

I rose my arm for him to see, and pointed with my other hand. "This one looks very much like yours, Jasper. The one on your neck."

Reflexively, his hand clasped the right side of his neck, where two gruesome scars met. Anguish, like my own, filled his eyes. I felt guilty... he had enough sorrow of his own, let alone experiencing mine on top of it. "I'm sorry," I croaked as I let my arm fall to my side, feeling my throat constrict. "You don't deserve –"

And then his lips were on mine. His hands held my arms firmly to my sides and his body pressed against into me. I became as stone, unmoving under his ministrations. Then, as his scent consumed me and our feelings became as one, my inhibitions vanished. My body fought against my mind, knowing better... but soon my arms came around his neck, and my toes pushed against the ground to press my lips closer to his. I felt the coolness of his tongue slide past my lips and my head spin with his flavor. I sighed as I tasted him, and pulled myself closer to his body. His hand caress the back of my neck, where the scars from James lay, and he whispered my name as our lips parted slightly.

I opened my eyes when I found that they'd drifted shut. He gazed down at me; I was still in his arms and he in mine. I smiled softly in a haze of affection, until I drifted back to earth. His hooded eyes became worried as my body stiffened.

I pulled away from him and turned my head. "We shouldn't have done that," I stated. I'd meant to say "you shouldn't have," but my mind was clouded. Granted, I couldn't possibly deny the connection between us... but etiquette _must_ be observed.

"I disagree," he said, if not a little smug. "You consent – don't deny."

I gaped, extremely affronted. "H-How dare you say that! What _you_ did was out of line, Mister Whitlock. Absolutely inappropriate." I turned up my nose, refusing to meet his eyes.

"I thought the evasiveness was behind us, Cora." He sidestepped and caught my eye. I glared at him. "You know how I feel about you..."

"_Do I?_" I thundered. "You lead me to believe that all you sought from me was refuge; a new life. I don't know how you _feel about me_! I'm _not_ the empath!" My face flushed from anger and my hands shook at my sides.

He smiled, as though my frustration was only an entertainment. "Do you know now?" he quipped.

I gasped, and reached out to smack his arm. He was quicker, and my hand only harmed the air. "That is not the way to approach a lady about how you feel, Jasper! You tell her gently, with respect" – I glared harder when he laughed – "not by violating her!"

Shock crossed his face. "'Violating her'?" he repeated. "I did nothing of the sort!"

"Yes, you –" Before I could finish, he leaned forward and swiftly pecked my lips. The action dazed me, but for only a moment. I sealed my lips into a line, and ground my teeth together. "How... _dare_ you."

He caught the wrist when I raised my hand to strike his face. "I feel for you, Cora," he declared, as though continuing a conversation. "Perhaps since the very first – I'm uncertain. In those weeks I tried to leave you, your face stayed there in my head until my heart ached at its absence. I changed my ways, which you had found deplorable, and returned here to offer myself to you. I beg you to accept me, and perhaps return a small amount of the adoration I hold for you. Now... was that an appropriate approach, my darlin'?"

Throughout the entire speech, I wrenched and twisted my hand in an attempt to escape him. I felt an acute excitement at his words, and the feeling made my rage crumble. However, I didn't allow myself to realized just what they meant. I carefully picked up the pieces of my anger until I could yell at him again. "Why, you assuming, cowardly, infuriating, boorish –"

"Beautiful, fascinating, charming, adorable enchantress... You've stolen my heart." By the humor in his voice, one would think he was joking. He kissed the palm of my hand that he held and the sensation rippled through me. "What shall you do with it now?"

"Jasper, I... I -" A sudden terror filled me when I heard some familiar, swift footsteps. Jasper heard it too, but he didn't seem as troubled. "Oh, no... Jasper, you mustn't tell him -"

"Why not?" he interrupted.

_Edward's prying in my thoughts by now._ "He won't approve, Jasper - !"

"But _you_ approve, Cora." The pride in his voice was all-encompassing. "What should it matter what he thinks?"

"Because - !" _I shouldn't love you!_ I clapped a hand over my mouth as though I'd said the words aloud. As Edward's steps slowed and he came into view, I knew that all bets were off.

He eyed me speculatively as he joined us. Jasper stood close to me - _too_ close - but I did nothing to right the situation. It was beyond repair. _Is there nothing that I can hide from you?_

"No... I'll find out eventually." A slow smile spread on his face. He reached out a hand to Jasper, and for a moment I thought he would use it to hurt him. But no... they shook hands, both smiling. "Congratulations," Edward said. "I don't regret supporting you."

Suddenly, with those words, all the past months events clicked in my mind. Edward allowing him to stay, Jasper leaving... then returning with a changed heart. Jasper had been keen on me from the very beginning, and Edward saw this. I tried to form a rational explanation, but nothing came to mind.

"Sometimes emotions aren't rational, Cornelia. Nor the things we do for them." By the way he regarded Jasper's diet, he believed the sentiment fully.

I looked at Jasper then, and he smiled. It was a moment before I realized my own smile, too. He stepped forward, and I naturally fit into the circle of his arms. We were alone again; Edward had left us to ourselves. "None of this makes sense..." I sighed and held his waist tightly.

"It doesn't have to, darlin'...," he murmured against forehead, then kissed it softly. "I only hope you'll agree to have me."

An exquisite warmth filled me; an affection. "Of course I will... I just need time, Jasper." My eyes closed with peace.

We stayed that way for a long amount of time, discovering the new feelings that had crept up from behind. I was mostly certain that the emotions I felt were my own, but only time would tell if they were true. I didn't believe in "love at first sight" at the time, but I didn't discount the theory entirely.

I thought of the future, there in Jasper's arms, and it didn't seem quite as daunting as before.

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><p><strong>Did you like the kissing scene? Was the end too fluffy? Just to warn you, there's going to be a major time-warp in<strong> **the next chapter. I'll leave your imagination to fill in the missing moments from Jasper and Cornelia's relationship. Hehehe.  
><strong>

**Next time: "Twelve Days of Christmas."**

**-Scarlet**


	27. Chapter 25: Twelve Days of Christmas

**I don't know what it is with me and Christmas right now, but here's another holiday chapter. Drabbles, mostly; hope you like it.**

**So, who's going to see Breaking Dawn tonight? Oh... What, me? Ummm... I'll be... busy... ahem-hem.  
><strong>

**Since BiShiE-HuNtEr2804 leaves such amazing reviews, this one's for her.**

**Oh yeah, notice the year is _1931_. There was a three-year leap.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**

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><p><span>In dedication to BiShiE-HuNtEr2804...<span>

**Chapter 25: Twelve Days of Christmas**

_December 13th 1931, sunrise_

_Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness, Washington_

Jasper and I declared ourselves the following month. I couldn't help but return the regard he felt for me... our love grew between us quickly. Traditional courtship was a difficult situation, seeing as the Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness didn't have a standard custom for such relations. I'd asked Edward to chaperone for us, and he readily accepted. What better choice than a mind-reader to oversee a budding relationship?

Before long, my life settled into a happy routine, with Jasper by my side. It wasn't often that we were apart, and the days slurred together with the excitement I felt for each one.

I was quickly discovering that the month of December was a very important time of the year for me. For one, it was my birthday, when I celebrated another year of my immortal life. Secondly, it was Christmas, when I could remember my humanity in the traditions of the season. However, the December of 1931 held more surprises than any of them put together... nothing I could have done would've prepared me for the events waiting around the corner...

It was Christmas again in the Washington wilderness, but this time I remembered it. Edward and I had made a small tradition of our own over the three years we'd spent together. Jasper wasn't very fond of the idea, but he humored it for me nonetheless. Beginning on the twelfth day before Christmas, we would begin a snowball tournament. Each day, the winner would add one tally to their score, and by Christmas the champion would be named. It was great fun.

**December 13****th****...**

Jasper helped me collect pine sprigs for a holiday mantelpiece. An inch of snow was on the ground, and the weather was fairly good for the season. The overcast sky threatened to snow, but the still air stalled the storm from reaching us. I stooped every so often to collect a green needle that caught my eye.

"Would this suit you, milady?"

I turned to Jasper and narrowed my eyes on the needle he held out for me. I plucked it gently from his hand, and tapped the brown tip pensively. "I suppose it must due..." I laid it in my arm basket and continued my search.

Minutes later, I felt something stick in my hair. Reaching up and taking it, I found that it was a fresh pine needle. Looking above myself, "Jasper...?" I smiled when I found him perched in a low branch of a pine, shaking down new needles for my collection.

Later that day, Edward took Jasper by surprise in throwing a snowball at the back of his head.

**December 14****th****...**

"Jasper, please hand me those scissors?"

I reached across the length of the couch and took the handle of the scissors from him, thanking him. Edward never let us sit closely together and we were always cautious, especially with his perceptive gift in just the next room.

I cut the extra string from the red cloth that I worked with a needle, and held up the project for Jasper to see. My proud smile faded as confusion clouded his face. "Can't you tell...?"

"A tea cozy?" he asked uncertainly.

My lip pouted and I dropped the Christmas stocking to my lap. I'd planned to make one for each of us, but –

Jasper, glancing nervously over his shoulder, slid across the cushions and draped his arms about my shoulders. With his mouth close to my ear, he murmured, "Of course it's a stocking, Cora... and very well done." His lips pressed an icy kiss to my temple.

I closed my eyes and felt a small smile play on my lips. "Thank you, Jasper... You know how much your critiquing means to me..." My hand crept up his arm, around his shoulder, and tangled in his silky hair.

Ducking his head, he placed a wet kiss to my lips. I kissed him twice, then once more as he pulled me half into his lap. My body melted into his as I felt –

We broke apart as soon as we heard a throat cleared. Jasper returned to his seat and I snatched the needlework from my lap, my eyes becoming pinned to the green stitching. I felt the heat of Edward's irritated glare on the back of my neck, and Jasper began chuckling at the utter humiliation I felt.

Hours later, I gently dropped a snowball on Edward's head as he walked under my hours-long post in a spruce tree.

**December 15****th****...**

Jasper went hunting, and left me at the cabin. The weather was simply too foul for me to be out. A terrible snowstorm had blown in, and added a foot of snow to the ground. I laid long-ways on the couch, waiting for him to return. _If I wore four mittens... and perhaps three coats..._

"You would still become a statue of ice. Yes, I agree."

I glanced over at Edward, who'd taken to writing notes on his favorite novels, and gave a despondent sigh. Rising from the sofa, I skipped across the room to Edward's desk, which he'd conveniently placed in the corner. Papers were scattered across the surface, some of my design and some of his. One stood out to me in particular, because the words were _printed_ rather than scripted.

"What's this?" I turned the paper so I could view it the right way, and, before I could blink, the sheet was gone. Behind me, Edward was slipping it into his breast pocket. I turned and rose my eyebrows. _A secret?_

"What did you see?" he pressed.

"Not a thing..." I showed him my thoughts to prove my truth.

His eyes were still wary, but he walked past me to take a seat at the desk once again. "Good... It _is_ a secret." He smiled deviously as he took up his pencil again.

After another half-hour of boredom, I convinced Edward to allow me to brave the storm. It was a difficult task to track Jasper's scent through the wind and snow, but the end result was very much worth it. Approaching unannounced, I managed to nick his shoulder with a tightly-packed snowball.

**December 16****th****...**

I tried to stifle giggles as I spent the afternoon with Jasper. Memories of my and Edward's prior scheming caused me to burst with laughter at random intervals. Jasper was only puzzled by my unpredictable behavior; he suspected _nothing_.

Gentle snow drifted from the sky, but the temperatures were still intolerable. I sat in Jasper's lap on the sofa, curled up on his arms. The fire crackled in the hearth happily, and the blanket between us kept me warm despite his body's coolness. He stroked my hair softly, and his steady breaths fanned the side of my neck. The moment was truly beautiful; something I would have treasured any other day... but I just _couldn't_ take the suspense any more.

Finally, there was three swift raps at the door.

I burst into a fit of hilarity, laughing uncontrollably until my eyes watered. Jasper, deeply concerned, lifted me off his lap and watched me curiously. "Cora, truly now... what's wrong?"

I cupped his charmingly confused face in my hand and attempted to regain control. "A-Answer the do-o-or, Jasp– !" My words failed when another wave of giggles struck.

He stood slowly, regarding me as though I were mad, and edged to the door. When he opened it, his shoulders flinched when a snowball smacked him in the face. Edward dropped from the roof eave onto the porch, laughing just as heartily as I. Jasper slowly turned around, snow clinging to his face and chest, and laughed with us wholeheartedly.

**December 17****th****...**

The warmth of the winter sun caressed my cheeks as I searched for worthy prey. I hadn't been hunting in at least a week, due to the weather, and the suddenly clear day had tempted me to venture out. I passed over the trail of a fox, and smiled complacently as I followed the faint paw-prints through the snow. When I finally found the source, I gasped when I saw the blood matted fur and closed eyes. _How – ?_

"Sorry," Jasper whispered, wrapping his arms around me from behind. "I know it's your favorite, but I just couldn't help myself..." He buried his face in my hair, and I felt him inhale on the nape of my neck.

I shuttered in the cage of his embrace; my arms were pinned beneath his. "I'll never forgive you...," I joshed, leaning back into him, savoring the closeness.

He pulled the hair back from my neck and leaned down. "Hmmm... never?" His voice tickled the shell of my ear as his lips traveled slowly to my neck.

I felt my heart leap as his mouth teased my skin. "No," I gasped, not really knowing what we were discussing anymore.

His hand slipped up to my chin, and turned it gently to guide my lips to his. I nearly collapsed in his arms, leaning against him as we kissed. He lifted my hair over my shoulder, and I felt his fingers play about the now-exposed collar of my coat. I moaned softly, wanting to feel more... but the whimper quickly turned into an exclamation as I felt an icy stream of snow slide down my back. I gasped at the unpleasant sensation. _He tricked me!_

Jasper chuckled, pleased by the reaction, and rubbed my arching back tenderly. "Gotcha, Cora..."

**December 18****th****...**

Deeply hurt by what Jasper had done, I conspired against him during the night. We had made plans to visit the frozen lake once again, to share dear memories of the past years we spent there. He had insisted that I sleep the past evening, to be refreshed for the next day.

I lay in bed, waiting for him to wake me at the appointed time. The sun had long risen, but he was allowing me to "sleep in late." Every minute that passed, the snowball clutched in my hand melted more and more. There was already a damp spot on the mattress, where my fist lay under the sheets, and I began to worry that my ingenious plan would fail.

But, sure enough, minutes later, I heard footsteps outside the bedroom door. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that he wouldn't know I was awake. The door glided open silently, and I waited for several tense seconds.

Sitting up, I hurled my melted snow at the figure in the doorway. "Ah-ha!"

But it wasn't Jasper who stood there. Edward, with a face that was seldom so surprised, looked down at his shirtfront, wet with slush.

**December 19****th****...**

Edward was very noble about the whole affair the previous day; however, when a snowball from behind knocked the breath from my lungs, I began to sense some resentment.

**December 20****th****...**

Edward and I shook hands in the living room. "It's settled then?" I presumed, my chin turned up slightly.

"Yes – a truce," he confirmed, smiling contently. "It was wrong to act separately. I assume this will apply to next year as well?"

"But of course. We fared quite well last year, didn't we?"

He laughed quietly. "Yes, we did."

I rubbed my hands together lightly, smiling as I recalled the sweet, snow-filled conquest of 1930. "Very good."

Before evening, we'd nailed Jasper four different times. He threatened to rewrite the rules when we both claimed a point. Only _one_ point could be scored per day, he'd reminded us, given only to one person. Since I had thrown the first snowball, the victory went to me.

**December 21****st****...**

Jasper and Edward sent me away from the cabin in the early morning, and told me not to return until sundown. I spent the day tracking various animals, scouting various areas, and experiencing various boredom. I suspected all the while that their actions were due to Edward's "secret."

When I returned that evening, I spent the night defrosting by the fire. I didn't have the energy to notice the sheet-covered object in the corner, nor the fact that no snow had been thrown in combat.

No points were scored that day.

**December 22****nd****...**

Jasper and I walked through the breezy afternoon, hand in hand. Edward had left for the day to "hunt" and we agreed that it was the best time to visit the lake. Jasper had two pairs of brand-new ice skates over his shoulder, tied together by their crisp laces. The design was much like a shoe, with a thick blade that curled around each end. I was brimming with excitement, but also, with nerves. It was too often that Jasper and I were so completely alone... not a soul in a hundred miles...

"Is everything fine, darlin'?"

I met Jasper's worried eyes and smiled to ease his concern, squeezing his hand. "Of course, Jasper." I simulated a false feeling of contentedness, but he saw through me right away.

"You've seemed... anxious lately, Cora. Anything I can help with?"

Like a breath of fresh air, I felt a peacefulness rise in my chest. I breathed in heavily, feeling grateful for his gift. "I don't know... I'm sure it's just my silliness, Jasper." I walked closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder. "Please don't worry."

He reached around to embrace my shoulder. "Whatever you say..."

When Edward returned that night, as planned, I occupied him by thinking of everything I could. While I divided the square root of pi by an irrational polynomial, Jasper threw a fast snowball from a nearby tree. Later, when he accused me of violating our truce, I insisted that I truly was calculating higher math, and that the new hobby was my best yet.

**December 23****rd****...**

Having broken the blade on his skate, Jasper left for Walla Walla to retrieve repair materials. This left me to my thoughts of the past day's events; we'd stayed at the lake for the entire day. I had been too distracted to think more about the "anxiety" that Jasper had mentioned. Now, I had large amounts of time to worry about said feeling. Jasper often picked out emotions that the bearer themselves didn't know they were experiencing.

_It's the snowball fight,_ I determined.

"What's the snowball fight?" Edward asked from across the room.

I looked over the edge of the couch and saw him standing on a chair, mounting a strange contraption above the door. Curious, I drew near and stared at the device. "What is it?"

"It's a spring-load." He lifted the pivoting arm and demonstrated by pointing out the silver coil. "When the door opens" – he adjusted the trigger-like part to overlap the edge of the door – "it'll let loose." He grinned down at me when I realized what he intended to do.

Jasper returned hours later, and revived a spring-loaded snowball full in the face.

**Christmas Eve...**

"Let's see..." Edward frowned as he double-checked the score sheet he'd kept for the past eleven days. "Cornelia is in the lead with four, and Jasper and I are tied with three."

Both men wore dejected looks as I smiled in triumph. "Then I am the winner," I chirped, "no matter what happens today."

"I propose a compromise," Jasper declared, breaking from the small circle we formed in the living room. "A _great_ compromise."

"I refuse," Edward said immediately. "_The rules_ prohibit it."

I glanced between them. Such silent communication often left me in the dark. "May I be apart of this conversation?"

"Here's the thing," Jasper said, his eyes lit with excitement, "for every point we have, we get one snowball. You'll have four, for instance. Then, we use those in an ultimate fight... The catch is that you have to hit the head, neck, torso –"

"Fine," Edward rudely interrupted. "It'll be more _even_ that way." He scoffed suddenly, probably due to something in Jasper's mind.

I smiled, despite their discourtesy. The plan was brilliant. "When shall we begin?"

The rules were quite simple: aim, throw, hit. However, as I lurked among the dusk-lit trees with three snowballs in my arms, everything seemed more complicated. The weather made my sinuses fill, so my sense of smell was greatly inhibited. Anything could be lurking around behind the trees... waiting to strike...

A hand grabbed my elbow from behind, and a shriek broke from my lips. I tried to whirl around, but the hand became an arm, trapping me by the waist. "Relax, relax...," Jasper chuckled. "Truce, Cora..."

I sighed in frustration, trying to loosen my taunt muscles. "This is _infuriating_," I whined.

"Hmmm, how so?" His hand rested on my hip, and his lips moved against my cheekbone.

I attempted to ignore the distractions. "I've only hit Edward once – that first time, you saw – and it's been hours!"

"Oh, that time? That didn't count," he drawled naturally.

"Yes, I hit him in the shoe."

"Precisely. You must hit his head, neck, torso, legs –"

"Might I see this in writing?"

"...Therefore, the point is invalid."

"But, Jasper, it –"

"Is invalid."

"Jasper –!"

"In...val...id," he whispered. Chuckling, he lightly tugged at the flannel material of my green scarf. "Head, neck, torso, legs..."

My foot stomped the snow. I sighed in exasperation of him – in _Jasper_ation. "_I want to win,_" I growled.

He just laughed. "You will, darlin'! If –" he broke off suddenly, and stepped away quickly.

I heard it cutting through the air; it's trajectory was from the southeast. Acting of reflex, I raised a hand in the direction. A white shield appeared in the air, and the snowball burst into dust against it. _Oh no..._ It was against the rules to use my gift. I turned my head to glare at Edward. "I call foul!"

"So do I," he declared indignantly.

"I do, too," Jasper denoted. "A truce was in progress" – he pointed reproachfully _– _"you _knew_ it, Masen."

"What do the rules say about this?" I demanded.

"There is no rule. Edward wasted his ammo, that's all."

"She used her shield!" Edward countered.

"And...?"

"There's_ a rule_ against that."

Jasper shrugged. "She was only acting in self-defense..."

"'Self-defense'? It's a snowball fight!"

The final result was indeterminate, and, much to my sorrow, we resolved that no one was the winner.

After hard feelings were put aside... I fell into an easy sleep, wrapped in Jasper's arms, with thoughts of Christmas on my mind.

* * *

><p><strong>That was a lot longer than I planned, but... oh well. Did you like it? What do you think Cornelia's "anxiety" is all about? Don't forget to review! I'd really like to know what you think without sending Edward after you... Heh.<br>**

**Thanks for reading. Next time: "The Snowman Conversation."  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**


	28. Chapter 26: The Snowman Conversation

**Thanks for the Alert, xxxVampy-chanxxx; and the Fav, yalilafakih. This chapter's dedication goes to Udumuhv and her enthusiasm for this story. Thank you!**

**Don't freak out about the date under the chapter title; it's just a dream/flashback. The year is still 1931. Just to warn you: ****It's coming, everyone. The end of Part 2. I have just three chapters planned after this one. Which should... imply... another sudden...  
><strong>

**You: Hey! On with the update, Scarlet!**

**Me: Oh, sorry. Here you go.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>

* * *

><p><span>In dedication to Udumuhv...<span>

**Chapter 26: The Snowman Conversation**

_December 24th 1813, 10:40am_

_Hoquiam, Oregon Country_

_It took me a moment to remember exactly why I had come. _I had a reason, right?_ "Um... oh, this!" I reached into the large pocket in my skirts and extracted the gift. I stood and walked to the sofa, depositing the small box on the seat next to him. I sat on the opposite end, leaning as far away as I could onto the armrest._

_Intrigue flashed in his eyes as he picked up the present. He looked at me and grinned. "I believe the tradition of gift-giving is reserved for Christmas _Day_," he emphasized._

_I folded my hands in prayer, pleading impishly with my eyes. "_Indulge_ me, Carlisle."_

_He smiled playfully, and pulled the brown string from the box. As he neatly folded the brown paper to the side, I felt a rush of nerves. _What if he doesn't like it? What if he thinks it's too –?

"_Brilliant!" He pulled the small, homemade trinket box from the package, and held the painted glass up to the light. "How did you make it?"_

_I was almost offended that he assumed that I made it. _Does it look that bad?_ "It's not very creative, I know. It's only stained glass from Mister Timmins; I told him were I'd like it cut, and I soldered it together with my hearth." I laughed in remembrance, rubbing my fingertips together. "I nearly burnt my fingers."_

_He opened the tiny silver hinge and let the sunlight from the window illuminate the glass. The tiny triangles and squares of greens, reds, blues, and yellows came together in the form of a vivid Christmas star. Only our eyes would be able to perceive the kaleidoscope of rainbows that the light converged to create._

"_It's dazzling… you must have spent much time crafting this. I can't thank you enough." He took his eyes away from the curio only to smile gratefully to me._

_I felt heat rise in my cheeks. My delight was as boundless as my empty money pouch. "You flatter me, Carlisle. I'm glad to have pleased you."_

_He seemed distraught at my humility. "I'm afraid the gift I planned for you is not as inspired," he said meekly._

_I giggled into my hand. "I'm surprised that you thought of it," I said offhandedly, then regretted it. "Sorry," I apologized, immediately contrite. "That was discourteous."_

"_Not at all," he said, setting my gift aside to reach into his coat. He pulled out a similar, smaller brown box. "To be quite honest, I hadn't expected such a gift from you, Cornelia."_

_A moment of awkwardness passed between us. "I suppose each of us is a lot more human than the other thought."_

_A small smile ghosted at his lips. "I suppose so…" he trailed off, holding out his gift._

_Our fingers brushed when I reached to take it, and I quickly withdrew my hand. I felt a blush creep into my cheeks as I untied the string. Pulling away the paper revealed a plain, black box. I glanced up at Carlisle's patient smile before lifting the top off. There sat the pocket watch from Timmins' window._

"_Carlisle –!" I exclaimed, gazing at the shinning metal face. "I thought this had been purchased long ago!"_

_He laughed at my glee. "It was; I wanted to wait for the right occasion."_

_The information shocked me. _If he was the one who bought it, then that was two weeks ago… days before we began speaking kindly with each other… so why…?_ "It's lovely… I've been wanting it since the day I saw it. Thank you." _Had he only done it to aggravate me? Had he seen me admire it and wanted to take it from me?

_His smile was endearing. "You're very welcome. Merry Christmas Eve, Cornelia."_

_I mentally shook myself of tainted worry, and smiled back with good cheer. "Merry Christmas, Carlisle."_

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

I woke from a fitful sleep, feeling very well-rested. I sat up, finding myself in the cabin bedroom. _Jasper must have put me here after I fell asleep..._ I slipped out from the warm sheets, and immediately began pulling on my socks. The room was chilly; there was no heating like the hearth in the living room.

When I reached for my frosty blue gown (something I'd designed and made especially for the day), my eyes fell upon a leather traveling bag. It was years old – nicks and scratches in the brown material – and I'd owned it for just as long. It held all the worldly possessions that I'd deemed worthy to keep over the years... which were few.

My dream came flooding back to me in a whirl of memory and hurt.

Goosebumps rose on my skin as I pushed aside the leather strap that kept it shut; the thin material of my nightgown did little to keep out the cold air. Ignoring my discomfort, I reached inside, deep where a small pouch lay, and my fingers touched the cool silver chain there. I drew it out, purposely slow, and I felt a small pang when I saw the intricate scene on the face of the pocket watch.

When I'd returned to the Quileutes after escaping from James, they'd told me that Carlisle had left the region years ago. Fraught with distress, I'd searched every inch of our empty home for a trace of him. James had taken the engagement ring from my finger, as well as anything else on my person; they'd long been lost to me. I'd had nothing to remind myself of him, my love... until I found the silver pocket watch lying on the doorstep of our home. At first, I had been jubilant to find a dear memento of him... but over the years, it became just a painful reminder. Nevertheless, I had kept the trinket all those years... unable to part from it, or perhaps, unwilling.

"Cornelia?" There was a gentle knock at the door, and I recognized Edward's presence.

"One moment!" I closed my eyes against his surveillance, busying my mind with nonsense, and shoved the watch deep into the bag. I looked at the ceiling as I slipped into my clothes; I'd learned long ago that it was the only way to decently dress around him.

"You may come in, Edward," I said, watching myself in the small mirror on the make-shift vanity as I pulled up my hair. I tied it into a loose bun at the nape of my neck, and shoved a red velvet comb behind it. The accessory had been a gift from Jasper, two years prior.

"You look lovely, Cornelia. Merry Christmas." Edward smiled and pressed his lips to my forehead.

"Thank you, Edward." I embraced him lightly. "Where is Jasper?" _He's definitely not here._

He appeared hesitant. "He's... finishing some last touches on... your gift. He should be here shortly."

My curiosity peaked. _Tell me, Edward._

He smiled, and offered an elbow for me to take. "You know I won't, so why ask?"

Taking his arm, I faked disappointment. "He told me that his gift was small... I hope it isn't too expensive." Since a vampire could very well apply for employment, and we had virtually no money, Jasper often filched from merchants in Walla Walla. My morals intervened every time, but I couldn't deny the convenience. _How else will we make do?_

"My thoughts exactly. I'm sure we can pay our dues to society once we've been accepted into human culture." He smiled impishly as he guided me into the living room.

Various holiday decorations were strewn about; we had opted for _cleaner_ adornments after last year's evergreen incident with the fire. An oil lamp hissed from the desk in the corner, illuminating the room against the dark looming clouds that hung in the sky. It all appeared to be in order at a glance, but my eyes widened when I saw the unidentified object in the far corner.

"Edward?" I glided away from his side, approaching the small upright piano slowly. Its lid was closed, but I could tell it was a full staff. I could smell the maple and ivory of its materials. Elegant carving lined the sides, and a fleur-de-lis was engraved into the music tray. I didn't recognize the French maker, but I _did_ recognize the impeccable quality and costly model.

I slowly turned to Edward, who was grinning from ear to ear. "Where did you get this, Edward?"

He chuckled at my predictability. "Before all _that_, a simple 'thank you' will suffice."

"Thank you, Edward."

He paused before continuing. "Well, it all started about three months ago when Harold Cartier took ill and died... His possessions were sold to various collectors, and Jasper happened to stumble across a misplaced note in a railway yard." He took a folded piece of paper from his pocket and held it out for me. "The delivery train was delayed, and the freight car in which the piano was placed had been left at the yard."

I looked over the document in my hands, recognizing it as the same sheet that Edward had snatched from me about ten days ago. It appeared to be a purchase form for the piano, placed by a Mister Dwight Monroe in New York. _The buying price had been –_ "Fourteen _thousand_ dollars? Edward, don't you realize what this –?"

"Transport of such an artifact would have proved damaging, no doubt. We've only saved the instrument from its worse fate." His tone held decision, as though he'd already made up his mind on the matter.

I couldn't deny his logic, other than the fact that he was becoming a notorious vampire thief. "Very well..." I sighed, and gave into the temptation of sitting at the matching, light maple piano bench. "I suppose I should be delighted, Edward. Your gift is very flattering" – I shot him a playful smile – "you must know me very well."

"Only too well," he joked back, standing next to the bench. "Open it, Cornelia."

I lifted the lid and slid it back to its place. The keys were yellow from age, but there wasn't a crack in their glossy surfaces. Running the tips of my fingers along the polished ivory, I felt myself smile. _Is it in tune, I wonder?_ Placing my hands at E minor, I pressed down a sad arrangement of first-inversion chords. The sound was pure and wide; in the perfect harmony of a mini-upright. I looked up at Edward. "This is lovely," I whispered, feeling touched.

"I know how much your music means to you. You haven't played in years," he reminded me softly.

"Yes... I've missed it." Adjusting my hand position, I began a quiet version of "Carol of the Bells."

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

The sun was setting by the time Jasper arrived back. I was despondent with disappointment... I'd missed spending Christmas Day with him. Edward tried his best to keep my spirits up as the hours ticked away; showing off his limited piano skills, attempting to describe the rancid smell of hot chocolate, sharing old Christmas tales of his human days. I'd put up my best show of cheer, but he saw how lonely I was.

I stood before the door as I heard Jasper shuffle up the porch, arms akimbo. After my depression faded, I'd realized that I should be upset with him. How dare he ruin our day just for some idiotic_ Christmas present_? I summoned my best glare as he opened the door.

He closed it quickly against the flurry of snow that blew in. Ignoring my sour countenance, he swiftly pecked my lips and gathered me in his arms. "I know, darlin'. I'm... sorry." I couldn't watch his face for sincerity, as it was buried in my shoulder.

I sighed, letting his scent wash over me after its short absence. I sensed that Edward had left the room; he must have expected a private moment. "Well...?" I pulled away from Jasper, and met his eyes expectantly. "Where is it?" I tried to hide my small smile as he grinned.

He reached into his jacket and extracted a small, flat box. He presented it to me with little ceremony, and I ran my fingers across the soft velvet before taking it. It was a jewelry box, I noticed, as I lifted the delicate cloth hinge. Upon a white cloth rested a very fragile silver chain with a small clasp; it caught the light and glimmered. "O-Oh...!" I couldn't help the surge of disappointment that flooded me. "It's..."

"Oops," Jasper chuckled. Taking the necklace gently, he twirled it around until it faced forward. A medium-sized charm fell out from the folds of the cloth, and I gasped at the sight. The shape was that of a shield – thick and square at the top with a rounded bottom. In the center, very small, was a diamond encrusted "C." The gems sparkled in the dim candlelight of the room.

"This is what took so long," he said hesitantly, turning the charm over. "The jeweler was out to dinner when I got there, so I waited." Engraved thinly in the silver, the words appeared:

_To my  
>darl<em>_ing love,  
>Cornelia<br>_

"Merry Christmas, Cora."

"Oh, Jasper..." My previous irritation vanished, and I felt a burst of endearment. The thought of how he acquired it didn't even pass my mind. "Jasper, it's wonderful. Thank you." Words didn't seem to convey it just right, so I wrapped an arm around his neck, and pulled his face to mine for a sweet kiss. The seconds lingered as our lips moved together, and the entire day seemed worth that one moment.

He pulled away and held my shoulders tenderly. "The day isn't over yet, Cora, we can do _anything_ you want. Just say the word."

I thought for a moment. "Well... there _is_ something I've wanted to do..."

Just several minutes later, we were out in the evening air among the freshly-fallen snow. I watched as Jasper gathered enough of it for a snowman, giggling when the white flakes clung to his hands unmelted. We soon had the body stacked up – one large snowball with a medium on on top – and I sifted around in the snow for stones while Jasper rolled up the head.

"Would you like the honors, milady?" When I turned to Jasper, he motioned to the round snowball sitting next to the body. Smiling, I made my way to him and picked it up with little effort. Reaching the top of our seven-foot man of snow was a different story, however...

I felt Jasper's hands on my waist from behind, lifting me until I could slide the head into place. He set me down once again, but his arms locked around me instead of letting go. I sighed contently, leaning back on his chest. "Our beautiful, faceless snowman..."

"Calling a man 'beautiful' and 'faceless'? Don't make me jealous, Cora..."

My breath vaporized in front of us as we laughed. The cold night air hung silently around us, and the bottomless clouds cradled the sky. The smile on my face seemed permanent and irrevocable; my happiness climaxed at that moment. One of his hands slipped up to finger the silver charm on my collarbone.

"What's wrong?" he murmured.

"Nothing at all," I sighed factually.

"You're still worried," he insisted. "You want to ask something, but you won't."

My spirits drooped, and I felt like scolding him for ruining the mood. "I can't fathom what you're referring to."

He laughed suddenly, and I felt his chest rise and fall against my back. "Try this, Cora: 'I don't know what you're talking about.'"

I sighed tolerantly. His attempts to bring my speech up to date were often tedious. "I don't know what you're talking about, Jasper."

He exhaled smoothly, and his cheek rested against the top of my head. "Are you sure, darlin'?"

I paused for a moment, to consider the suggestion further. I'd attempted to pinpoint the source of my worry in the past several days, but all my reasons ended up to be quite silly. _I wonder if what Edward said could be true... No, that's too embarrassing to speak about..._

"Cora... you know I would never loose respect for you. You're too good for that."

I summoned courage, and took a deep breath of the night. "Edward has a theory..."

He silently waited for me to continue, which make butterflies erupt in my abdomen.

"...That involves you. And me." I felt a sureness seep into me, and I knew Jasper's gift was to blame. I _knew_ I could tell him anything. "I want... to _be_ with you, Jasper. Closer to you." I turned my face into his arm to stifle my blush, and let the utter mortification grip me. "It's silly," I murmured, my voice muffled by his sleeve. "Edward doesn't know..."

He gently spun me around, and touched my cheek with his fingertips. I met his golden gaze, so full of understanding, and felt a wave of serenity. "It isn't silly, Cora. Don't be embarrassed." He chuckled, and cupped my flushed cheek. "I did say you could have _anything_ for Christmas..."

* * *

><p><strong>Review, review! There's a catastrophe waiting to happen in the next chapter and <em>your<em> review is the only thing that can prevent it! Well... that's a lie. It'll happen anyway. Oh well... Review anyway!  
><strong>

**Next time: "Lethal Encounter." (Dun-du-_du_!)  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**


	29. Chapter 27: Lethal Encounter

**Ahem, thank you ****for the Fav,**** LadyChandlerNorrington. Glad to have you!  
><strong>

**Sorry this is shorter, but it's kinda important. Forgive me?**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 27: Lethal Encounter<strong>

_December 26th 1931, 12:37pm_

_Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness, Washington_

I scowled at Edward over the rim of my teacup. I still hadn't forgiven him for "interrupting" Jasper and I last evening. He later said that we'd thank him, but I didn't see it as a likely possibility in the near future. I was never one to hold a grudge, but I glared at his stupid red eyes every chance I got.

Jasper was mortified. He'd never been too fond of Edward, and the "event" last evening sealed that dislike. He'd left early that morning to hunt; I could tell he needed some time to think on his own.

So did I.

Even though nothing "happened" last evening, it was still a step forward in our relationship. The modern practice of "dating" was not something that I favored, but as Edward explained an hour before, technically Jasper and my relationship was outside the realm of courtship. Last evening only proved this point explicitly.

I left Edward, falsely excusing myself to hunt. He didn't seem to mind my deception, or simply didn't care, and I stole from the cabin quietly. Jasper's trail ran deep into the forest, in a northern direction – a path he didn't usually take. I disregarded it, knowing he wouldn't want me to follow. A mix of emotions swirled within me; something had awakened last night that hadn't been there before...

_ Doubt._

I loved Jasper... maybe not as much as he loved me, but the feeling was certainly returned. I was confident that he hadn't used his gift over me in quite some time, for which I was thankful. Being around me had helped him control his gift, whereas before he was allowed to use it in whatever way he wished. If nothing, I was grateful for the experience that we shared alone.

_ Experience? But... I want to be with him... right? Do I not consider our relationship to be permanent? Have my standards slipped? Or have I been tricked?_

These thoughts of doubt and uncertainty tormented me for a full hour of aimless walking. I'd walked three five-mile circles around the cabin by the time I realized it. I sighed, gathering my petticoat tighter around my body, and perched myself on a snow-covered boulder. I lifted my feet out of the reasonably-high snow and set them upon a branch, my makeshift footstool. I frowned, and waited for everything to make sense.

About half an hour later, I heard something odd. A footstep in the snow, about a half-mile east, which was non-animal. The step was heavier than a grey wolf, but not quite a deer. I stood up, and sniffed the wind for a scent. Due to the cold, my sense of smell was upset. I sighed heavily, and began marching in the direction of the disturbance.

The scent became clearer as I approached, but I couldn't tell the identity of the vampire from one to another. _It's most defiantly Jasper. Who else could it be? _However, my posture stiffened when the steps became more hurried, urgent. They didn't hold the powerful consistency that Jasper's would. They were light, almost frantic in their pace.

I caught sight of her around the trunk of a tree, for only half a second. She was of medium height, light brown hair, deathly pale skin, and glistening red eyes. Her stature was unusually stout for a vampire, but her movements were quick and aggressive. We passed each other in our haste, but she quickly righted her mistake. Overtaking me from behind in a heartbeat, she knocked me to the ground. The breath left my lungs in one motion, and I struggled to regain it under her weight.

"Stop, please stop," she pleaded. Taking my collar roughly, she flipped me over like a ragdoll and grasped my throat with hands like ice. "It'll be so much easier this way!" Her tone was anxious, and her eyes held nothing but bloodlust. She hesitated twice as she leaned down to my arm... teeth exposed.

Raising my knee, I jutted it into her abdomen. She slid across the snow several feet, and was dazed long enough for me to ready myself. I held out my hands, willing a shield to appear between us.

I was too late. She hissed in frustration as she sprang at me, her pretty face contorted into a scowl. I heard my wrist crack as it was smashed between us, and this time she didn't hesitate as she lowered her head. Lifting my already-healed hand, I managed to thrust my fist into her jaw before her teeth sank into my throat. However, her teeth nicked my chin as her head snapped up from my blow, and I felt an unpleasant tingle of the venom as it healed my wound. I whined in pain as I staggered to my feet.

She stumbled back from me, and moaned as she held her lopsided jaw. Her eyes locked upon mine, holding me in a trance, as her crooked bones fused back together with a sickening crack.

This time, I managed to raise a shield around her. Like a round cage, she was trapped inside. I wiggled the fingers of the hand that had been damaged, and clenched it twice, holding the shield up with the other. Other than a few bruises, the knuckles seemed fine.

I lifted my head to glare at her. _Diplomacy time._ "Why did you attack me?"

She rubbed the inside of the shield with her fingers, and then scratched it with her nails. She wailed in torment as my barricade held, seeming to either not hear me or ignore me. _She must be very young... or perhaps inexperienced._ Suddenly, her blood-curdling scream made my hair stand on end. It echoed back to me through the forest, and I was sure if Edward hadn't heard before, he'd heard that.

I swallowed dryly as I watched the woman scratch her face and pull her hair. She moaned something over and over again, but I could only pick out the word "don't." I didn't wait five minutes before I heard Edward approaching. I bit my lip as he joined my side; I couldn't hold the shield much longer and my concentration was dwindling.

"Edward!" the woman shouted, staring right at him. "Edward, please!"

My eyes widened. _How does she –?_ I turned swiftly to Edward; his eyes were pinned on the white dome that confined the female. I couldn't read his expression, but it changed slightly to remorse as I showed him the scene in my head. He seemed to sigh for a moment, and then rested a hand on my forearm. "Let her go," he whispered.

I stared at him as though he were crazy. "She attacked me! She's dangerous, Edward, can't you see?" I thought as hard as I could, but his eyes didn't waver. _Are you mad?_

When he grabbed my hands by the wrists and pulled them away, the shield faded. I cringed back as the woman began running for us, but gasped when she wrapped her arms around Edward. I watched his conflict over her shoulder as he returned her embrace, sparing me a confused look. I felt my jaw unhinge. _What is this?_

It was in the very next moment that I sensed another presence. It was approaching quickly, and it distracted me from the scene before my eyes. As it came closer, I felt an unprecedented familiarity rise up. I inhaled the winter air deeply; the scent was smooth like honey and strong like pine... _So familiar..._

Then, to the east, I saw him between the trees. Time seemed to slow as my mind reeled with reality. In my shock, I stumbled back and tripped into the snow. I didn't register the cold ground that my hands caught before I fell, or the dull thud of my heart speeding up.

He stared in my direction, but not at me. He whispered a foreign name, and my peripheral caught sight of the woman darting for him. His eyes then traveled to me, and our golden gazes locked. In that moment, I felt as though the world stood still, as though nothing else existed. My stomach clenched when my own name fell from his lips, and a strange pang tickled my chest.

My hearing faded as the moments dragged on. The woman reached him and sprang into his arms, surprising him out of his daze. My vision narrowed with darkness, and a sensationless tingle began at the base of my skull.

One distant, unforgotten, haunting, bitter name broke on my voice...

"Car...lisle?"

* * *

><p><strong>Oh... dear... calamity... This could be trouble. Please review; it would make me so, so, so happy.<br>**

**Next time: "A Demon with Gold Eyes."**

**-Scarlet**


	30. Chapter 28: A Demon with Gold Eyes

**Whoa! Thanks for the reviews, Tedmynameisfred, Feng Yue, and Udumuhv. And the Alerts/Favs, ImperialRuby, LookIntoHerEyes, and Lunar Sunrise. I can't believe I broke 40 reviews! Yay, yay!**

**Here's the beginning of the end... kinda. This is fresh off my mind, so mind the errors. I hope you like it.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 28: A Demon with Gold Eyes<strong>

_December 26th 1931, 1:22am_

_Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness, Washington_

Nothing in particular pulled me to consciousness. My eyes refused to open, and it felt as though my body had detached from my mind. The events that led up to my sleep were as hazy as a forgotten dream. I forced myself to move, wiggling my toes and balling my fists. When I opened my eyes, I saw the wood paneling of the ceiling in the cabin bedroom. I sensed that it was nighttime... but how? I tried to recall as my eyes drooped once again.

"Cornelia," a soft voice said.

I turned my face toward the voice I hadn't recognized, and squinted through sleepy vision. The small window in the room allowed the night to enter, and moonlight set his pale face aglow. The man's gaze was unwavering and compassionate as he stood to the side of the bed, and I wondered what made him so concerned.

"Carlisle..." It was only after the name left my mouth that I realized it was his. "Carlisle?" I sat up as he cautiously settled on the edge of the bed. I stared and stared, wondering when I'd wake up.

"Hello, Cornelia."

A smile spread on my face; my dreams _never_ carried on this far. My hands automatically reached out to him, and he took them gently in his own, pulling me closer. On my knees, I fell into his embrace... marveling at the solidness of his body and the security of his arms as they wrapped around me.

A gasping laugh escaped me as I laid my head on his shoulder. "Carlisle!" I exclaimed breathlessly.

His chest rose with a chuckle. "Are you well, Cornelia?"

Wanting to see his face, I pulled back. I was filled with wonder at the way his golden eyes twinkled, the way his lips curved into a smile... the rise of his forehead, the arch of his nose, the angle of his forehead, the slope of his neck... My memories were of no comparison. "I am well, Carlisle," I replied quietly, smiling.

He shifted his body to face mine fully, and his hands slipped down to my waist. I unclasped my hands from behind his neck to raise one to his face. My fingertips glided over the marble skin of his forehead, his cheek, his jaw, and down the side of his neck. His brow furrowed at my touch, which made my hand freeze on his collar.

"I'm so deeply sorry, Cornelia..." He reached up and took my hand from his shoulder, holding it in both of his own.

With those solemn words, I snapped back to reality. My giddy smile faded as I came back to myself, and my logic returned. _How is he here? Why?_ "Carlisle... what happened?"

My vague question deepened the lines on his forehead. "You fainted, Cornelia. Edward showed me to this place."

The day's events rushed back to my mind. The woman's shrills screams, Edward's strange behavior, and especially... "How did you find me?" I asked earnestly, clutching his hands.

His words held reluctance, as though he only answered because I'd asked him. "I... didn't. Esme followed a scent here; she's still very young and undisciplined," he explained slowly.

"Esme...?" My thoughts flashed to the female vampire that had attacked me.

"Edward told me what happened after..." He looked meaningfully into my eyes. "Please forgive me, Cornelia. I tracked you as far as I could possibly –"

I reached up to silence his words with my hands, and his stony lips stilled under my fingers. I stood on my knees so we were eyelevel. "Do not apologize. You're not at fault in the slightest, Carlisle."

I leaned close to him, basking in his vivid, sweet scent, and pressed my lips to his solid cheek. My heart trilled at the sensation of wholeness that rose up in my heart. I felt more than heard his quiet gasp in my ear, and his hands immediately grasped my shoulders, pushing away. Submitting reluctantly, I frowned curiously at his differed face. _What wrong did I do?_ My hands lifted to his, intending to remove them, but a cool metal – rougher than the smooth skin of his knuckles – brushed my palm. I peeled his left hand from my shoulder, and regarded the ring as though it were an alien object.

His expression was tortured. "Esme is..."

I felt a dead feeling lurch in my stomach.

"My wife."

My lungs clenched and denied me breath.

"I found her several years ago, in a hospital," he said slowly.

My chest tightened with each word...

"She was dying."

As though an anvil was placed upon it...

"I turned her to save her life."

As though an elephant was placed upon that...

"We became close soon after."

As though a ton of bricks were placed upon that...

"We were married."

And then my heart shattered like a glass wall in an opera studio.

I'd stared blankly through his entire confession, not conveying the utter trauma that exploded inside of me. My throat constricted with tears that refused to come, and my hands slid limply to the bed. I felt alone, rejected, and hurt. But most of all, I felt _betrayed_. My love for Carlisle had been never-ending and eternal... whatever I did, wherever I went – I could not escape it. Now, here he was, the one object that I'd so completely given myself to... wearing a ring that didn't belong me to, wearing a frown that didn't sooth me.

"Car –" my voice caught thickly.

He sighed deeply, pleadingly. "Please don't, Cornelia." He reached up and cupped my cheek, his hand slipping down to my jaw. "I only beg your forgiveness –"

My instincts asserted themselves. I flinched away from him, stumbling off the bed to my feet. My bare flesh stung against the cold floorboards. "How could –?" I choked on the words.

He stood as well, his torn eyes blazing as he stared down at me. "I never meant for any of this to happen... it's unthinkable..."

The tears that tarried before came with new potency. One scorched down my cheek, but I stepped away when Carlisle reached for it. "I l-looked for you too, Carlisle." My voice was heavy with sorrow. "For y-years I searched..."

"I never meant –" he repeated, braking off as he lost his composure. The next moment, I was in his arms with my head cradled to his chest. I felt his nose press into my hair. He held me tightly, and his voice was desolate, broken. "I beg you..."

I stood motionless, there in his arms, attempting to set my irrational thoughts and feelings to rest. My first reaction was despair. My second was regret. However, the third dominated and surpassed all others... _anger_.

Shrugging out of his arms, and stepped back, roughly blotting the tears with my sleeve. I lifted my eyes to glare at him, saying nothing and everything at once. His desperate eyes told me all I needed to know. _He doesn't know what to do._ The situation was irreversible by any stretch, but it was infrequent that Carlisle was stuck so speechless. We stared at each other, unspeaking; his gaze heated and helpless, mine cold and cross. He was my demon once again; my demon with gold eyes.

"I was dead without you, Carlisle," was all I said.

"As was I," he simply stated.

Another long pause grew between us. His gaze weakened as the seconds dragged on, and lulled into an empty stare. I wondered what he was thinking. "Have you nothing else to say?" I asked disdainfully.

"Only that I implore your forgiveness," he replied formally.

I stared. _Forgiveness is not so easily earned._

His lips parted, and he hesitated before saying, "Nothing beyond that."

I sensed that there was more he wanted to say, but I wasn't willing to hear. I crossed my arms sourly, and fought the urge to yell my words rather than speak them. "Very well, Carlisle."

It was by divine intervention that Edward approached the cabin just then. His presence comforted me instantly, and I felt a tinge of bravery spark within me as I glowered at the love of my life. The cabin door opened and closed quickly, and three gentle knocks were heard on the bedroom door. Disregarding the fact that Carlisle stood rooted to his place, and the point that my attire was unfitting, I strode the two steps to the door and answered it. The look on Edward's face was half-shock, half-horror. I smiled generously, flaunting my absurd thoughts with ease. _He's married another woman, and asked me to forgive this!_

Edward brushed my shoulder reassuringly as he edged into the room. His expression betrayed his concern for my sanity. "Carlisle... Esme is requesting you."

It was that moment that another horrific detail of the situation presented itself to me. Carlisle had spoken of Edward as though they were acquaintances, and vice versa. In my mind, they had no connection whatsoever, and the little time that they would have spent together during my unconscious state didn't allow for such familiarity. I looked from one to the other, in rapid succession, trying to find an explanation. Fortunately, this enigma distracted me from the thought of a female vampire, whose name was Esme.

"Thank you, Edward." Carlisle's tone was distracted, and he made no move to leave. His head inclined slightly, and his eyes narrowed upon Edward.

I recognized Edward's "listening" face immediately, and questions began to swarm around in my head like angry bees. This sufficiently distracted Edward from whatever he was hearing from Carlisle, and he shook his head slightly, as though clearing his "thoughts." He stepped away from the doorway, signaling for Carlisle to leave. "She's waiting to the southwest; follow my trail there."

Carlisle nodded sharply, his eyes hesitating on me. If I knew one thing, I knew this: if he walked through that door, I would _never_ forgive him. Edward glanced between us nervously, having the advantage of hearing both sides of the story. I watched Carlisle's deep topaz eyes burn with conflict, searching my face for emotion that wasn't there. After several more lengthy moments, he slowly turned toward the door and left.

I fumed with anger as he exited the house; my soul was consumed by it. My mind raged against itself – accusing, cursing, speculating, wishing, hoping...

I didn't realize that Edward was speaking until he gently shook my shoulder. "...and has been since. You changed him like nothing else has ever done."

My head snapped to the side, and my eyes tightened. "_You don't know a thing_," I hissed.

"I do," he countered, his red eyes heated. "I've heard that man's thoughts for the past ten years now, Cornelia. I know his soul, I _feel_ his suffering."

If possible, his response kindled the fire of my rage greater. My cheeks filled with its glow, and my mouth hung open with its intensity. "You... _lied_!" His actions were unjustifiable, unacceptable, and atrocious. Another betrayal... I felt like punching him! I didn't bother to keep the hurt from my voice, "Explain yourself, Edward. _Now_."

His face was disinclined. "Perhaps another –"

I stomped my foot, and the wood beneath it split with a hairline crack. "NOW!"

"Cornelia," he reasoned anxiously. "I'll explain, of course, but first... please calm down."

I seldom lost my composure; even less around Edward. However, at that moment, I couldn't control the emotions boiling inside me. It was like a forest fire, raging and damaging. My nails dug into the palms of my hands, and my face burned scarlet. Forcing myself to sit on the bed to relieve him, I fixed an untiring glare upon Edward Masen.

He let out a breath, and joined his fingertips together, poised to give details. "When I first met you," he began, "at that disgusting, human train station... I... read your mind..."

_Stop stalling._

"I saw right away, how... he _infested_ you. I knew if I told you about my connection to him, you would shy away... or worse."

"What 'connection'?"

"Well, he..." The awkwardness, so uncharacteristic, would have been humorous had I not been in such a state. "He changed me?" The statement came out as I question, which hung between us for a time.

My question, however, came out as a statement. "What."

"No, no! It wasn't like that at all..." He sighed in frustration as my thoughts darted from one scenario to the other. I'd only heard of humans being changed after an attack, or an accident. I couldn't picture Carlisle in that situation... ever. "I was dying," he elaborated, speaking quickly, "that much is true. I told you that my parents died of Spanish influenza, in Chicago – that's true. He changed me to save my life, Cornelia, _grasp_ this."

"_I turned her to save her life..." _Carlisle's similar words echoed in my mind. My scowl softened, and the unique concept blossomed in my mind like a rose. A life given immortality... to prevent its loss. "You would have died?" I asked quietly.

"Yes. Absolutely. Carlisle changed me to save... both of us." He then addressed my confusion with, "He was more lonely than anything I've ever seen, Cornelia. He needed me as much as I needed him."

I considered then – Carlisle's perspective. He'd said that he tracked me after... James; I tried to imagine where and how. His search must have been much like mine – helpless and despairing. I recalled all my years of loneliness, and imagined his as well. _If I'd had the power to replace Carlisle... I would have done it. _He'd said that his wife had been dying, as a human no doubt, and he'd saved her. I put myself in his place, and easily understood why he did it. _He replaced me... how convenient._

"I understand why you don't want to forgive him..." Edward's empathetic whisper brought me from my thoughts. "But will you at least consider redeeming _me_?"

My heart melted, and I rose from my seat sinuously. "Of course I forgive you, Edward." I chuckled lightly, and wondered how my anger had so completely faded away. I rested my hand on his shoulder, which was quite a reach. "But if you _ever_ lie to me again..." He smiled when I trailed off.

The sudden voice from the doorway made my blood freeze in my veins. "And what lie would that be, Cora?"

_How could I have forgotten about Jasper?_

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><p><strong>Poor, conflicted Cornelia. Help her through this with a review, and we'll both love you forever...<strong>

**Next time: "The Strangers."**

**-Scarlet**


	31. Chapter 29: The Strangers

**Thanks for the reviews, tedmynameisfred and LookIntoHerEyes****! And for the Fav,**** roxana94.**

**Enjoy this last chapter of Part 2. Beware of typos.  
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**-Scarlet****  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 29: The Strangers<strong>

_December 26th 1931, 2:05am_

_Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness, Washington_

"Jasper!" I gasped, my mind reeling with the sight of him. Rushing to him, I crushed myself to his chest. I held him stiffly, eyes wide with my own conflict, and immediately felt his power affecting me. I shook my head against him. "No. Don't, please."

I felt his slight reluctance before he released hold of my emotions, and his arms held me to him. "Cora, I'm so –"

I shushed him, and looked up at his pained face. I couldn't imagine what he was feeling from me, because I didn't know what was happening myself. "Jasper, I –" my voice caught. "I just need time... to think."

He nodded, but his face was still bewildered. He rubbed my shoulders tenderly and drew me closer for a fleeting moment. "Get something warm on," he murmured.

I was barely able to contain tears as I roughly dressed myself. Edward had left the house courteously, but I wouldn't have cared if he saw me anyway. I shoved on my boots, only lacing them halfway, and swiftly buttoned my tweed winter dress. The material was coarse against my skin, but I didn't spare it a thought. Twisting my tangled hair into a long, sloppy braid, I ran out to the living room and into Jasper's arms.

He patted my hair and rubbed my back. The guilt alone of crying over another man was eating me alive. Emotions flew through me like leaves in a windstorm, violent and harmful. I tried to stop it; I tried to not care... but everything seemed multiplied tenfold in that moment. Carlisle's appearance, the woman's attack, Edward's lie, the ring...

"I c-can't..." I gasped through racking sobs, squeezing my eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. "He was d-dead to me! It was better than _this_... so much..."

I could feel Jasper straining against his gift, which told me that he was feeling exactly what I was. The pain, the sorrow, the betrayal, the anger. In a sudden moment of awareness, I pulled away from him. His face was crumpled into a frown, and his eyes were haunted with my suffering. I wrung my hands and shook my head. _I'm torturing him. He doesn't deserve this!_

And then I was running. He must have inferred from my emotions that I didn't want him to follow. He didn't deserve to feel what I felt... it was my own fault, not his. I wasn't sure which direction I was running, as I tried to block the crushing feeling in my chest. However, the farther I ran, the farther it seemed my troubles became. Lost in the white, moonlit forest, everything seemed reasonable.

Of _course_ Carlisle found another woman. He was alone. He didn't have anything to stop him.

Of course Edward lied about his past. If he'd seen the painful thoughts inside my head, it had almost been courteous to deceive me.

Of course I loved Jasper. He'd saved me from my loneliness, and given me the gift of his companionship.

The one... the _only_ thing that kept all this from being true was me. My feelings. The fact that, when I first saw Carlisle, an insatiable desire ran though me to kiss him. To hold him and never let go. To rip that ring off his finger and throw it as far as I could. Yes, the only thing preventing my world from being perfect was _me_.

"I still love him."

The voice that had been my own caused me to freeze in my tracks. It had been a whisper, broken and pitiful. My face, which had dried from my swift pace, became doused with tears once again. But these tears were different; they were silent. My thoughts drifted like clouds in the sky, not quite deciding where to rest. I stumbled to a nearby fallen limb, and sat down. My bare fingers were numb from the cold; they stung when I moved them, as though the blood was frozen.

_He may still love you,_ Positive whispered. _Didn't you see his face?_

_It wouldn't matter,_ Negative jeered. _You missed your chance long ago._

I remained in that emotionless, semi-comatose state for quite some time, ignoring my inner voices. Half an hour passed. The half-moon arched high in the diamond sea of stars as the moments slipped by. Occasional, shadowy clouds scurried across the sky, or the portion I could see through the break in the trees at least. Then, as my façade slowly faded, a fiery emotion returned.

I jumped up, gritting my teeth. _It doesn't have to be _my_ fault. What if it's _his_? _"He should have waited... he should have known I wasn't _dead_!" Swinging my fist at the nearest obstacle, the young pine shattered into splinters at the base, which caused the whole tree to sway. It broke from its trunk, branches shattering as it hit the snowy ground. Pine needles splayed across the snow like spilt paint.

I clutched my sore, numb knuckles and staggered on my own feet, feeling as defeated as that tree. I swallowed thickly; my tears had already run dry. "_God,_" I hissed, "_how I torture myself!_"

Suddenly, among the dripping of the snow from high branches, the munching of a grass by a deer, and the clicking of a beak upon a nut... I heard breathing. In and out, in and out – the steady rhythm was hollow and district. Those dry, dead lungs didn't need any oxygen. _Excellent... I need a good fight._

Going against my instincts, I turned toward the direction of the breathing, which was very far away. After about a quarter of a mile, the breathing suddenly stopped. I felt a smirk grow on my face as I pushed myself faster. _It knows I'm coming._

I hadn't expected a preemptive strike, but I gladly welcomed it. From behind, the vampire's stony grip around my neck couldn't contain the wrath I felt. I leaned forward, flipping it over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. But it was stronger – _much_ stronger – and turned my own momentum on me, crushing my back into the snow. My neck gave a painful spasm, having been crushed against the ground. My entire body had frozen due to the shockwave that disrupted my nervous system. I snarled through my teeth, and glared at his upside-down eyes as he pinned my shoulders.

I saw the glow of his white teeth through the darkness, and his repulsive scent invaded me as he leaned down to my ear. The aroma was as sweet as cherries, and as spicy as oak. His cold breath wafted across my neck, and the ends of his long, raven black hair tickled my nose. "I do hope you know you're rather easy to locate... Though Washington _is_ quite lovely this time of year." His voice was strung with a strange accent that I couldn't identify.

I scoffed softly, and tried to wiggle out of his hold. His hands grasped my arms unusually tight. "Release me and _fight_," I growled, kicking fruitlessly.

"Are you _playing_ with the thing?" a shrill voice demanded. I sensed another presence off to the side; definitely vampire. _But... it sounds like a little girl..._

"The 'thing' is a hybrid, dear sister," another young voice said, sounding more masculine than the other.

"Does it _matter_, Alec?" the girl snapped. "Let us take it and _leave_ this place."

When I tried to turn my head to the source of the voices, the man gripped my shoulders hard, causing me to wince and gasp. I willed strength into my frozen limbs, but nothing came to me. "Stop, please," I begged, lifting my chilled hands to grip his wrists. When I did this, his whole posture stiffened, and the hold on my shoulders was gone in a flash.

I sprung to my feet, and gravity shifted. The girl's angry shriek made my eardrums split. My head spun with dizziness but I knew what I had to do. Holding out my icy hands, I made a thick shield in front of me with all the energy I had left. I sealed it around myself, like a fortress surrounding me. My whole body shook with the fear I felt, but I focused my entire mind on the shield.

"What made you do that?" the boy asked, rather puzzled.

The man was distraught under the frosty glares of the children. "She... I..."

I took a moment to study my opponents. All three of them wore coal black cloaks, with their cowls pulled down over their shoulders. Both the younger vampires had deathly white skin, but the adult's complexion was a shade darker, almost olive. European, no doubt. The boy and girl were similar in appearance, both with brown hair, and shockingly young. _They couldn't have been older than sixteen when they were turned..._

The girl's voice was edgy and irate. "How do you mean she 'wasn't at all what you expected'? What did you expect?"

"She smells sweeter than any human I've ever encountered," the boy chimed in, teaming up against the adult in an almost comedic manner.

I watched the strangers' glowing, scarlet eyes as they watched me through the moonlight. _What could they possibly want of me? _Their matching cloaks ruffled in the slight breeze, like black ink against the white scenery. I discounted the children as a threat, but I knew the adult would be a problem. He was about Jasper's height, perhaps more lean, with an awareness in his eyes that vampires seldom possess. I thought of an explanation for this, but all I could think of was... perhaps he wasn't thirsty at that precise moment.

"She could very well be Chelsea's long lost sister," the girl quipped lightly, glaring at me with eyes like fire.

"It's more physical than hers, though. Chelsea's is a mental gift, Jane," Alec said properly.

"Aro will be pleased," the man stated. He paused, cocking his head to the side as he regarded me. "But how do you suppose we break her out?"

The children snickered, as if sharing a good joke.

"May I, please?" Jane asked cheekily.

"No, Jane. I will," Alec asserted.

"_Alec!_" she screeched, glowering at the boy.

"_Silence,_" the man hissed, ceasing their argument. He paused, as though to try their patience. Then, "Alec, go ahead."

The entire conversation was utter nonsense to me, and from it, I gleaned no insight on their intentions. I glanced curiously at the young boy, whose hypnotic stare was fixed upon me. I found my eyes trapped in his ruby ones, unable to move. Then, everything went black. I couldn't feel my body. I couldn't even _smell_. It felt as though I was drifting through a black cloud of darkness, with no sense of gravity or orientation.

_Am I dead?_

*~ **END PART 2 **~*

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><p><strong>Whoa! That was rather abrupt! Don't worry, I'm already working on the next chapter in Part 3.<strong>

**Here comes another dedication opportunity... Who **_**is**_** the adult vampire? The first person to review with the correct name will receive the dedication for the next chapter. C'mon... you **_**know**_** you want it. (HINT: Remember, this is the _book_ universe.)  
><strong>

**Next time: "Part 3: Volturi - Chapter 30: The Betrayal and the Compromise."**

**-Scarlet**


	32. Part 3: Volturi – Table of Contents

*~ **Cornelia: A Tale of Twilight **~*

Part 3: Volturi

_Table of Contents_

Chapter 30: The Betrayal and the Compromise

Chapter 31: The Past Not Forgotten

Chapter 32: Across the Ocean Blue

Chapter 33: Into the City Volterra

Chapter 34: Castle Life

Chapter 35: A Talk with Aro

Chapter 36: Shield Training

Chapter 37: The Library Lurker and the History Lesson

Chapter 38: An Investigation of Rosemary

Chapter 39: Unfinished Business

Chapter 40: Signed Respectively

Chapter 41: The Blame

Chapter 42: No More Regrets

*~**C**~*


	33. Chapter 30: The Betrayal and Compromise

**We finally made it to my favorite part of the story, Part 3. Well... that's a lie. I have a lot of favorite parts.**

**Thanks goes to tedmynameisfred for the review!  
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****Lots of dialog in this one. Hopefully it'll explain a few things.** Please enjoy.  
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**-Scarlet  
><strong>

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><p>*~ <span>Part 3: Volturi<span> ~*

**Chapter 30: The Betrayal and the Compromise**

_December 26th 1931, 2:34am_

_Wenaha-Tucannon Wilderness, Washington_

What happens to us is a very small part of life, in actuality; what really holds meaning is our reactions to those happenings. I could honestly say this a thousand times over.

The scene before me when I regained coherency was quite strange. The snow around my kneeling figure was kicked up and disheveled, as though I'd struggled in my trance. Edward Masen was standing several yards away, with the most severe expression I'd ever seen him wear. Jasper was not too far away from him, crouched low to the ground with murder in his eye, glaring over my shoulder. The male vampire that had initially attacked was standing behind me, restraining my arms to my back so I couldn't move. Following his intense gaze, I found Carlisle, standing a hundred feet away with a determined expression. In the thick of all this was the children – Jane and Alec – who each held an arm of the female vampire Esme. _Restraining her...?_

"Come now, Carlisle," said the man's voice from behind. His silky voice held the intonation of negotiation, and a tad of familiarity. "All my Master desires is her presence. Nothing more. No harm is intended, of course."

Jasper's angry snarl made my eyes snap to him. "Taking her by force is harm enough," he growled. By the look in his eyes, I could tell he was beyond reasoning.

I shifted my shoulders uncomfortably. The vampire's grip on my wrists was excruciating. _What's going on? Why do they want to take me? Where?_

And then Jasper was charging at top speed. I turned my face and braced myself for an impact. A thundering collision echoed through the wood as he smacked into the vampire. I was brought to the ground with them, but rolled out of the way of the fight. I held my forearm, which had been scratched deeply when the vampire's grip was ripped from it. Edward was by me in an instant, asking if I was alright.

"I think so," I muttered, standing wobbly. My mind was still trying to grip the reality I had been shoved into. I looked up at his anxious red gaze. _Was I just a hostage?_

"You never agreed with Aro's orders before, Carlisle," I heard Jane sneer. "Why should you now?"

"Jane, please," Carlisle reasoned. "Violence is not the solution."

Alec scoffed flatly. "Then what do you call _that_, Carlisle?"

Jasper slammed the vampire into the ground, holding his neck. The impact caused the surrounding trees to shutter. His opponent was obviously as trained a fighter as he was, and countered each move he made with two of his own.

_We must stop them before..._ "Who are they, Edward?"

"They call themselves the 'Volturi.'" His jaw set. "They want to take you to their leader in Italy, Aro. They will hold Esme hostage until we hand you over."

I shook my head in disbelief. "_What?_"

"You _have _heard of them," Edward accused quickly, rummaging through my thoughts.

"Yes, of course." What I had heard of them was not good. Carlisle had once told me of the "Volturi Guard" – an ancient royal family surrounded by protectors – was almost like the unofficial government for vampires. Their laws were feared; the consequence for crossing them was death. I knew little more. Carlisle hadn't been keen on telling me anything further...

Then, I heard a sound that I hadn't for over a hundred years, and likely wouldn't for another century. Carlisle's angered voice: "You can't be saying that Aro sent you here _specifically_ for – !"

"We don't question Aro's orders!" Jane screeched.

Jasper gave a painful cry as the other vampire's teeth grazed his shoulder.

"Cornelia?" Edward asked hesitantly.

If there ever was a time in which I was likely to go mad, that was the moment. The entire situation made my mind reel and my heart pound. It felt as though insanity would crack down any second. I clenched my fists angrily. "_ENOUGH!_"

My voice resounded through the still, dark morning; even Edward stepped back from the sound. Jane's wide eyes glared at me, and the look on her face told me that she wanted me dead. Carlisle stopped speaking, and stared apprehensively at me. It was only by miracle that Jasper and the man stopped their struggle to watch me. Esme took the moment of shock to struggle fruitlessly against the children. I took an uneasy step back under their gazes.

I mustered the strongest voice I could. "I want to end this peacefully," I said.

Jasper gave the man a low growl as he made to walk over to Edward and I. Jasper kept a watchful eye on his back as he reached us. He tipped his head slightly, in formal greeting. His manner contrasted with his attire, which had been torn in several places from fighting. "I am Demetri, guard member of the Volturi. What terms of concession do you propose?"

His pleasantries weren't returned. "I will decide after you state your intentions, Demetri of the Volturi."

"Simply that you accompany us to our Master. Aro wishes for your attendance in our home, Volterra."

"To what end?"

He grinned. "Nothing unpleasant, I assure you."

I was uncertain. At the start, the situation appeared to be a military-type movement; however, now I was beginning to understand the political take. Of course, the show of force was still there... My reluctance overpowered my instinct to comply. _I do not know how to proceed... I need time to clear my thoughts._

Edward stepped forward, shifting Demetri's attention for me. "Excuse me, sir. I am Edward." The two regarded each other impassively. "Cornelia would like to know more of your purposes with her."

Demetri glanced between us, obviously trying to appraise our relations. "Such as?"

Jasper pulled me aside gently, as Edward asked Demetri obscure questions, targeted to provoke thought that wouldn't normally occur. Jasper held my shoulder until I looked up at him. His eyes were panicked. "Don't go with them."

I shook my head. I didn't have the mind to attend the Volturi's home, but the situation was still uncertain. "I don't know –"

"This is something I've never seen before. They can't force you to come, that's for sure. But Cora, know that you wouldn't be here if Edward hadn't heard you scream."

I paled. _They were going to take me. _"You know them?"

"_Of_ them," he corrected. "They were in the South not long ago. They're usually good at keeping the law, but this is ridiculous." Jasper looked up, just in time to catch Demetri's glare before Edward stole his attention once more.

"I don't know, Jasper... I'm just –" I turned, sensing a familiar presence.

"Cornelia," Carlisle addressed, looking at me with golden pools of regret.

Jasper didn't give me the chance to respond. He half-stepped in front of me and stuck out a hand. "You must be Carlisle – we didn't have the pleasure earlier. I'm Jasper." I hadn't told Jasper much about Carlisle, but all that he knew wasn't good.

They shook hands firmly. "Good to meet you, Jasper." His words were addressed to me even though he looked at Jasper. "I apologize for this entire mess. I had known they were in the area; I just hadn't expected –"

"_No_," I snapped, a bit too harshly. I stepped in front of Jasper again, who had taken surprise at my manner. "It's obvious that you're hiding something, Carlisle. I would like to know what that is."

The evasiveness showed on his face. "I don't know what you're referring to."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" I asked swiftly, motioning to the strangers with my eyes. My past anger was resurfacing.

I had put him in an uncomfortable situation, and he reacted to it accordingly. "I... don't know what you wish me to say, Cornelia."

"You _know_ them," I growled through my teeth. "Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

His eyes darted to Jasper. "Granted... They have some ethics that I do not agree with."

I wanted to hurt him just as he'd hurt me. "Answer my question, Carlisle."

He ignored me once again. "All I suggest is that you trust them. Their laws mean no harm – only to keep humans oblivious to vampire existence."

"Obviously not _too_ oblivious!" I angrily motioned to my own eyes.

"Of course that is one of their flaws, as well as the reason I left –" he immediately stopped speaking when the rage swelled on my face.

"_You_ were with them? In Italy? _Why_?" I nearly screamed. Yes, I was being too unreasonable. Yes, I was being too passionate. I was _mad_.

"Cornelia, the it's not what it appears –"

"You never told me, Carlisle? _I thought I knew you!_" The blind rage made my vision fuzz. Edward had stopped speaking by this time, and Demetri was watching with a satisfied face. I couldn't have cared less... My heart was breaking for the billionth time over that man.

Carlisle was at a loss for words, and his face was vacant. "I only ask that you trust them, Cornelia. And me."

Tear pricked at my eyes then, but I fought them with my whole being. _I thought we'd had something special... I thought –_ _! _"You never loved me, Carlisle... Did you?" My voice was tiny and miserable... _pitiful_.

He took a step back, as though burned from my words. His lips parted, but he didn't speak. He didn't _deny_.

"_You're just doing this to get Esme back,_" I whispered, just as quietly. His shocked face began to blur in my vision, so I lowered my eyes to the ground.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. "I never wanted to hurt you..."

I knew he meant that sincerely, but it fell on bitter ears. It sounded as though he regretted ever meeting me. Ever _loving_ me. Ever _giving_ himself to me. One tear escaped my closed eyes and trailed down my cheek. I swiped it away quickly... and with it, my weakness. Gathering strength, "Well, you did," I said bluntly.

I turned away without meeting his eyes, and blinked rapidly as I looked at Demetri. His face had hardened into intolerant stone. Summoning any dignity that I had left, I turned up my chin. "Let the woman go, and I'll accompany you." I felt Jasper at my side, and Edward behind me, but nothing more.

Demetri's expression changed, and I could barely describe it as a smirk. "You chose wisely."

And then I sold my heart to the Volturi, where I knew it would be kept safe and cold.

* * *

><p><strong>What do you think? Life-changing moment? Huge mistake? Tell me in a review.<strong>

**Next time: "The Past Not Forgotten."  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**


	34. Chapter 31: The Past Not Forgotten

**WOW. I'd like to thank Udumuhv, LeahEmrsn, and ShiningDay for their reviews; and Katrara Melody Cullen, girllyingbythesea901, and BlueEyedGunSlinger for the fav/alerts. I can safely say that those were the AWESOME-EST REVIEWS EVER! And, since ShiningDay broke the 50-review barrier, this one's dedicated to her. Thanks, everyone!**

**Oh boy... more sexual content. The plot will pick up in the next chapter, I promise... but for now, enjoy this sweet sorrow.**

**As always, I _just_ wrote this; you know the usual warning.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>

* * *

><p><span>In dedication to ShiningDay...<span>

**Chapter 31: The Past Not Forgotten**

_December 29th 1931, 5:46pm_

_Boston, Massachusetts_

My farewell to Edward had perhaps been the most difficult of my entire life. He knew me in and out, as though he'd met me long ago. He said that he would return to Carlisle's way of life, and maybe even live with his "family" again. I didn't recommend it; however, I was overjoyed to hear his conviction about feeding from animals.

We had departed Washington with little ceremony; Demetri allowed only Jasper to come with us, but then, only to the coast. He refused any suggestion for him to accompany me to Volterra, and I desperately tried to ignore this fact during the three days it took to cross the North American continent. We rarely stopped to rest or feed, and Jasper carried me on his back most of the way. I was thoroughly fatigued from lack of sleep by the time we arrived in Boston.

The city had changed substantially since the time I'd last seen it. Paved roads and street signs wound throughout the brick-and-mortar buildings of downtown. The evening streets were filled with busy humans, scurrying about to and fro. Jasper had some difficulty controlling his thirst around such a crowd, but soon we found refuge at a small inn – near the boat piers we... _I_ would be departing from the following morning.

Though the roads and trees in town were covered in old snow, there wasn't a cloud in the fading purple sky. We had timed our entrance in town with the sunset, though Demetri and the children did not escort us. They had instructed me to meet them at the piers at nine in the morning.

_Finally... some time with Jasper._

We had both become rather quiet around one another, knowing of what was to come. I had no idea what was waiting for me in Italy, or how long it would keep me there. So, as we settled into the tiny room at the inn, a mutual remorse filled the space between us. We had only hours left together...

I lifted the strap of my leather shoulder bag over my head and set it on the cloth sofa. A feather down bed occupied the space in the center of the room, and a vent from the heating furnace on the ground floor sat in the corner. Other than a few chair and a small stand, that was the extent of the furnishings.

"Jasper..." I turned to find him standing at the foot of the bed, hands clasped behind his back. He watched me with an unwavering, dark ocher gaze, filled with the reflection of my sadness. We stared at each other for a moment, sharing silent words of longing. Then, he closed the gap between us and folded me into a soft embrace. I clutched his shirt in my hands. "I want to stay with you," I said in a small voice.

"We'll be together again, Cora. I promise."

I turned my nose into the hollow above his collarbone and inhaled. His spicy scent was already imprinted onto my mind, but I wanted to keep a part of it with me... drown myself in it before it was taken away. My hands slid up the small of his back, along his spine, to the strong muscles of his shoulders. "I want more _time_," I pleaded pathetically.

"Sssh, Cora." His fingers dried the tears I hadn't realized sprang in my eyes. Before I knew it, I was lying on the softness of the mattress, nestled in Jasper's arms. He pulled the flannel sheet around us, and gently brushed my eyelids closed with his fingertips. "Sleep – you're exhausted."

I fought against my drowsiness and wiggled closer to him. "We must spend this time together... there's no time to sleep..."

His arm tightened around my waist. "Goodnight, Cora..."

My eyelids drifted, and my consciousness sunk into much-needed sleep.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

_Demetri's expression changed, and I could barely describe it as a smirk. "You choose wisely." He gave a quick motion with his hand, which signaled for Jane and Alec to release their prisoner._

_I averted my eyes as the woman – Esme – was freed, and felt a sinking feeling when I heard her whisper Carlisle's name. However, to my surprise, she glided fluidly to my side. I tried not to flinch back when she took one of my hands between her cold, thin ones. "I don't know how I'll ever deserve this kindness. Thank you so much."_

_I narrowed my eyes at the young vampire. Her eyes, which had become a dark orange color from an animal hunt, shone with uninhibited appreciation. My heart hardened like stone. Perhaps if we'd met under different circumstances, perhaps in a less hostile manner... then I could have forgiven her. She seemed perfect – beautiful, kindhearted, longsuffering – which made my blood boil with jealously. What could he have found in her that I lacked? What made her more desirable than me? Why did he love _her_?_

_I pulled my hand away in one sharp movement, and nodded curtly. It was all I could do to keep from scratching that pretty face... the face he loved._

_As she danced off to her dear husband, I didn't bother to hide the hatred in my glare. _Keep your unruly wife, Carlisle Cullen. May she bring you much utter sorrow.

_..._

"_Titus! Titus, no!" I bolted for the scene, and punched the first vampire so hard in the face that he fell off his feet. The second acted quickly, wrapping his arms around my neck from behind. "Let go! Titus!" I scratched at the vampire's arms and kicked to free myself. Again, I found him much stronger than me. His arms began to compress around my neck; he was going to snap it. "CARLISLE!"_

_Then, the impossible happened. Blood trickled down my neck; I stopped breathing._

_"Carlisle..."  
><em>

"I don't need him, Jasper... tell me I don't need him anymore..."

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

I jerked awake so quickly that a muscle in my leg tensed up. The tendon throbbed and tightened further when I tried to fight against it. Groaning, I reached down to rub the cramp.

A cool hand swept mine away and replaced its ministrations. I sighed softly as relief and calmness flooded through me. "Was it a bad dream?" Jasper asked softly.

I looked at his golden eyes, glowing yellow through the darkness, imploring my own worriedly. I smiled to show him I was alright. "Yes, just a dream."

I sensed that it was early morning; the small window overlooked the dim streets of Boston. Rain thrummed quietly on the roof, and wind whispered against the house. Jasper was propped on his elbow beside me, and his arm disappeared under the sheets to where he massaged my leg. I lifted myself closer to him, hoping he would stop touching me. He didn't, and chuckled lightly. "Am I doing this right?"

I leaned my head against his chest and curled my up against him. His hand moved with me. "You're doing fine..." I didn't bother to tell him that my calf was better already.

His soothing motions turned into soft caresses before long, and I savored the feel of his fingers against my skin. We stayed that way for several minutes; his gentle, circular rhythm lulled me back to lethargy...

When his fingers hesitated, my eyes snapped open.

"What did you dream about, Cora?" His stroking returned as he waited for my answer. "Your emotions were all over the place."

"Sorry..."

"Don't apologize."

His previous question hung between us for a moment, while I contemplated an answer. "The past. You know I only dream memories..."

"You dreamed about him," he presumed gently, "didn't you?"

My muscles tensed under his hand and his motions ceased completely. I bit my lip and waited for my reaction to come. "Yes..."

"You said you didn't 'need him,' Cora. You've never talked in your sleep before." He paused, sensing my emotions. "Don't be embarrassed, darlin'. I'll never judge you."

I tried to take his words to heart. I could tell he wanted me to say something more – his hand was still and his breath was bated – but I couldn't bring myself to open up. I already knew what I would find there if I did. "You know me, Jasper." I closed my eyes to keep myself from falling into the depth of his gaze. "That part of my life is over now... I only see you, _only_ you."

Instead of gentle caresses, his hand then closed around my calf fully, sliding up to my thigh. The intimate gesture caused a shiver to run up my spine. He leaned his head down to my level and nuzzled his nose in my hair. "Do you know how much you mean to me?" he breathed against my ear, his lips brushing my jaw.

My heart skipped a beat as he pressed a kiss to the side of my neck. "My existence was empty before I met you, Cora... filled with doubt."

I once against pictured the horrors of his past... war, death, hatred. He had been the worst kind of soldier, and seen the worst kind of death. I let my hand travel to the twisted scar on his neck; it had been the wound that took his mortality. His lips stilled against my skin, and I felt his soft sigh waft across my neck. "You brought me back to life."

I let my head fall to the mattress, and our gazes met. He was smiling, his lips pulled over white teeth. I shared in his happiness, and leaned up to press our smiles together. My fingers drifted from his neck to his collarbone as we kissed softly, feeling the marred skin there as well. A terrible urge filled me suddenly, and I pulled back to see his eyes. I let my fingers fall to the buttons of his shirt, watching his eyes for permission to continue.

I saw acceptance. I saw gratitude. I saw love.

I'd seen his torso the first day we met, and on other occasions as well. Only during the hours of his absence did I let my fantasies wander to dangerous places... Each button eased through its hole swiftly, and I slipped his shirt from his shoulders in one quick movement. I traced my fingers over each scar that littered his chest, his abdomen... then I leaned up and kissed the prominent mark on his neck.

He groaned softly as my lips traveled down his body, laying soft kisses on each scar as I went. My body came alive as his hands traveled up my legs, over my hips... A fire kindled itself within me. My fingers traced what hard skin that my lips missed, and his hands mirrored my motions, creating friction against my thin blouse.

"God, Cora," he breathed, sounding more out of breath than he should have been. "Oh, God... You don't know how that" – my fingers brushed a nasty mark by his nipple – "aahh!"

He lifted me up by the waist, crashing my lips to his. I pressed my body closer to him as his tongue prodded my lips, and took him into my mouth with a sigh. My fingers twined in his hair as I tasted him – so sweet and addicting – and his hands ran up and down my sides. But it wasn't enough... I needed to be _closer_...

I'd sat back and ripped my shirt over my head before I spared it second thought, and pressed our bare chests together as I kissed him roughly. I felt Jasper tremble against me as our skin brushed each other's. My breath was fast, my heartbeat heavy as his hands touched my now-bare body.

All too soon, he gripped my arms and pulled away. His shocked eyes moved down my scarred body, from my shoulders to my stomach. I stayed very still as his hands gently traced the same path, pausing on the vivid, snow-white scars scattered about. "Cora, I... I had no idea..." I shivered when his deft fingers brushed my ribs.

I just about snapped from the tension in my body. "Jasper, I need you..." My hands tarried at his hips, and my own need burned between my legs. I pushed myself up on my knees and kissed his jawline twice. "_Make love to me, Jasper,_" I hissed into his ear.

A shockwave of surprise reverberated between us, and all our motions stopped in a split second. I pulled back, knowing I had ruined everything. It was improper and unladylike... ridiculous for a woman to say. I tried to swallow my words, feeling regretful and dirty.

But he caught my wrist before my hands left his chest, and a low growl rumbled against my fingertips. Slightly frightened, I looked up at his eyes, which were nearly black. I felt lust pool between us in a rush of heat and excitement.

"I want you to dream about me, Cora." A flicker of chagrin crossed his face as he leaned down to take my lips once again. "You don't need him anymore."

We became one that night.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh my God... I'm so embarrassed. I never write like this, I swear.<strong>

**Please review and tell me how terrible it was.**

**-Scarlet**


	35. Chapter 32: Across the Ocean Blue

**Thank you for reviewing, ****xBloodLustx, ShiningDay, and Udumuhv! I'm so thrilled that you all enjoy the story so much! And thanks to megggaroni, EvilHusky, and AcidTrip90 for the favs/alerts.**

**OK, so the dream sequence in this chapter is a dialog/monolog thing. The italic words are bits of dialog from Carlisle, and the italic/bold is Cornelia's monolog. It may be a little confusing, but I'm just trying to catch a wide effect of memories. (Carlisle-related, of course. Tehehe.)**

**Thank you all for reading. Enjoy this chapter.**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 32: Across the Ocean Blue<strong>

_December 30th 1931, 11:08am_

_Somewhere in the Atlantic_

My cheeks filled with color as we met Demetri and the children at the piers the following morning, with thoughts on the events of the evening. Demetri smirked at this, which made Jasper laugh at how embarrassed I became. Alec then asked what was so humorous, and Jasper replied with "When you're older." This made Alec glare at me; which made Jane, in turn, scoff.

I blamed Demetri.

The sun had risen behind a layer of clouds, fortunately. My goodbye to Jasper was short; we had agreed upon a concise farewell that morning. We boarded a cargo liner – a large, long, low vessel by the name of _Steel Ferry_ – which departed from the dock in record time. I watched Jasper's figure standing on the shore until my heightened eyes could see him no longer. And then I stared, just for the sake of staring. The frosty sea breeze blew whipped at my flushed face and loose hair, and rustled my skirts... my gloved fingers were numb after clutching the ice-coated rail for so long.

Sighing when I finally turned away, I watched the few crewmembers shore up some final things on deck. It was boring and monotonous. I leaned out against the ship's metal railing once again and gazed at the swiftly moving water beneath the hull. The vessel glided along the inky surface, as silent as an eel. Part of the hull above the water, where the waves rose up and lapped, was coated with black ice. The crew had told me that the journey to Lisbon would take under a week, if the weather permitted. Bringing my fingers up to the silver charm around my neck, I softly –

I gasped in horror. _It's gone!_

My eyes darted all around deck, but I didn't see a glimpse of silver anywhere. I scurried about, thankful that most of the crew had already gone below deck. I was sure someone had stolen it... perhaps it had slipped from my neck. I overturned every crate and barrel in sight. The ship was carrying a shipment of leather and cinnamon to Portugal; the vast cargo had overfilled the hold and was scattered around the main deck.

I was carefully peeling through the layers of a coiled rope when a black boot stopped my search. "_Excuse me,_" I snapped, bringing my eyes up to glare at the owner.

It was Demetri, smug and smiling. His ruby eyes were a shade lighter than the day before; he had fed during the night. "Is this what you're looking for, by chance?" he asked coolly, holding a delicate silver chain before my face.

"Yes!" I exclaimed, immensely relieved. I reached out to take it, but he pulled it away at the last second. I spared him a tolerant, questioning gaze. _He's making a fool of me._

His eyes were amused. "I'll make a deal with you, half-breed," he said with false pleasantness.

I held up a finger to stop him. "Actually, I prefer the term 'hybrid,'" I corrected.

His expression deadpanned, and he ignored my request. "If you behave yourself this entire journey, half-breed, and do not question my authority... then you shall have your necklace back at the conclusion." His tone was formal, but his eyes were mocking.

My temper flared. "It _belongs_ to me," I said through my teeth.

He shook his head, like a father scolding a child. "That comment would be classified as 'questioning my authority' – ah!" He sidestepped my lunge for the necklace, and chuckled.

I glared openly at his arrogant face. "Very well." I turned my face, determined not to show my weakness. "It matters nothing to me, anyway."

"Ah, I see." He stepped toward the ship railing. "Then it would mean nothing if I –"

"Don't!" I sprinted for the shimmer of silver that he held out over the railing. I was detained by Demetri's arm, which brushed me aside forcefully. I stumbled back and stared at him, panicked. "You mustn't, please!"

He only grinned at me. "What does this mean to you, half-breed?"

_How dare he... _I glared back, infuriated. "Currently, it means the world to me. I would be miserable if it were lost in such a manner." My eyes darted to his hand, which grasped the necklace out over the water. Changing tactics, I carefully stepped closer and softened my gaze. "Certainly you know the feeling of leaving a loved one..."

His affronted eyes traveled between my own questioningly. I suddenly wished Edward was there, to tell me what was behind Demetri's curious gaze. However, he said nothing, and tucked the necklace into his cloak as he stalked off.

I rubbed the lines on my forehead viciously, feeling quite lost after he left. Without something "Jasper" to hold onto, a consuming feeling of loneliness was bubbling in my chest. I sniffled from the cold, and I stomped the metal decking of the ship, pretending it was Demetri's face.

_He didn't drop it, at least,_ Positive said.

_But you're still going to take it back as soon as possible,_ Negative retorted.

I shambled off to the quarters the crew had set aside for me – bless them. I twisted the latchstring around its peg securely and glanced about the small room. A fold-down cot was mounted upon the back wall and an awkward-looking latrine was off to the side. A small clothes cupboard was secured to the floor, along with a out-of-place lounge chair.

I sat upon the uncomfortable cot, and rubbed the coarse sheet. The springs of the thin mattress squeaked under my weight, as though pained somehow.

_This is fine. You can endure a week of this,_ Positive consoled.

Negative scoffed. _Of course you'll endure this – right after you recover from acute insanity, that is._

I nearly laughed. _If only Edward could hear my inner voices now..._

Due to my restless sleep and the gentle rocking of the sea, sleep found me easily.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

_**Carlisle Cullen.**_

"_Are you well, Miss?"_

_**A rainy street; I felt cold, alone, miserable.**_

"_May I ask what keeps you so in the rain, Miss Cornelia?"_

_**The barriers that I built between us...**_

"_I've heard a rumor that my niece is in town."_

_**Fell quickly.**_

"_I've brought you here to answer some questions I have about you. And, of course, you may ask me anything as well."_

_**I felt as though there was **__**finally **__**someone that cared about me...**_

_ "I apologize for my curiosity; you are quite fascinating to me."_

_**Who accepted me for who I was.**_

_ "You are not human."_

_**His golden eyes became a comfort to me...**_

_"I do not wish to be condemned for my nature alone. A nature I did not want to accept."_

_**A drug...**_

_"So, what excitement has left you so dauntless on this clear day?"_

_**A hunger...**_

_"I'm afraid the gift I planned for you is not as inspired,"_

_**A need.**_

_"It was; I wanted to wait for the right occasion."_

_**I began to love him...**_

"_A good effort, Cornelia. However, it so happens that _you_ are the true vampire slayer present."_

_**Everything about him...**_

"_Certainly, the trouble must be that I care too much."_

_**And my love was returned.**_

_ "You were my ultimate test, Cornelia."_

_**I couldn't live without him...**_

_ "I'm sorry for deserting you, Cornelia. It was for the best."_

_**Without his love.**_

"_Cornelia, I love you."_

_**It was that comfort...**_

"_I have loved you since the day I knew we were meant for each other... which was the first time I saw you."_

_**That drug...**_

"_You are my soul mate and my true love, Cornelia."_

_**That hunger...**_

_"I promise to love you for the rest of eternity."_

_**That need.**_

_ "Will you marry me?"_

_**I would never be without it again...**_

"_Thank you for letting me – in all that I am."_

_**Because I couldn't possibly survive without it...**_

"_I love you, Cornelia. With my whole heart and soul... nothing will ever break us apart."_

_**And neither could he.**_

"_Wherever you wish. I will follow you, my dear... always."_

_**OR SO I THOUGHT.**_

"_I found her several years ago, in a hospital."_

_**I felt broken; more broken than I had before.**_

"_We were married."_

_**Words weren't enough.**_

"_I only beg your forgiveness."_

_**They would never be enough again...**_

"_I never meant for any of this to happen... it's unthinkable..."_

_**Because just as sweet as words can be...**_

"_I... don't know what you wish me to say, Cornelia."_

_**They can also be SOUR...**_

"_I only ask that you trust them, Cornelia. And me."_

_**They can HURT.**_

"_I never wanted to hurt you..."_

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

"Well, you did!" I screamed, lunging for the source of my pain. My memories faded into the blackness of a ship cabin.

The floor was cold and hard beneath me, and my face was sticky with dried tears. The room rocked heavily to each side, and I heard the deluge of rain on the deck above me. My heart constricted with sorrow. I tipped over flaccidly with the swaying of the ship, and my cheek stuck to the damp, hollow metal of the ground. My body felt empty, void... without Jasper to fill it with some kind of emotion. My mind drifted to the concept of a drug addict – unable to cope without his fix.

I stayed there on the ground, unmoving, for quite some time. It was after a full hour of this that sobs began choking up my throat. I curled in on myself like a pillbug, holding my chest as it heaved with the force of my tears. I hadn't felt such crushing sadness for many years... not since...

My head jerked up when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Demetri loomed over me, watching my pathetic display with severe red eyes.

"Leave me," I rasped with a throat like glue.

There was a pause, during which I turned my face back to the ground. "Why are you wailing this way, half-breed?" he demanded harshly.

Then an emotion asserted itself... an emotion with which I was becoming very familiar. Anger scorched through my slow veins, and I stood to my feet with rigid quickness. I glared at him haughtily, with all the pride in my soul, and stepped so close that I could feel the coldness of his skin. "I have a name, you infuriating fool! Address me with respect if you wish the sentiment _returned_!" I yelled in his face.

He seemed staggered for a moment. His crimson eyes blinked for the very first time since I'd met him. Then, his eyes narrowed and he took on a look of annoyance. Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out a black silk kerchief and offered it to me. "You are disgusting, Cornelia."

I scowled at him, and ignored his offering, rubbing my eyes roughly on the sleeve of my petticoat. "Curse you, _vampire_."

He retracted the kerchief and tucked it neatly into his pocket once again. "Ah, but you forget – I already am quite damned."

I sighed heavily at his sarcasm, and sat upon the ghastly cot. I folded my arms indignantly. "What brought you here to torture me, then?"

"Aro will be displeased if I return with you in ill health," he said simply, with the most impassive expression on his face.

I once again for myself mystified at the mention of the very name – Aro. The most ancient vampire, who had taken the duty of keeping all the other vampires in line. Of course I had heard whispers and rumors of him... of _them_, the Volturi... but thoughts of seeing him face to face was as exciting as it was appalling. Demetri's sudden smirk brought me from my musings.

I glowered, turning away. "Fortunate for _you_, I never take ill."

Feeling the bed dip, my head whipped over to glare at Demetri, who was glaring back. He sat next to me, as nonchalant as anything. "Does your thirst not bother you? Your eyes aren't even darker," I noted.

His lips twitched with a smile. "Your blood does not appeal to me at all."

I thought of the difference I'd seen in vampires... how some were less tempted by me than others. Jasper, for example, was not as drawn as Edward claimed he personally was. "I see."

But he wasn't done there. "Your blood smells as alluring to me as... well, a goat's." His eyes glinted scornfully.

I gasped, offended at the outrageous statement. "Well... you're as alluring to me as a... as an ostrich!" I felt the blood rise to my face as he burst out laughing at my pathetic attempt at an insult.

"Honestly, dearest... I wasn't _trying_ to lure you in the least bit..."

His fragmented sentence caused me to glance over at him. He was staring at me intently, with his eyes trained on mine. I immediately become fixated in the force of his eyes, and found myself memorizing every spec and coloration I found there. His irises were a light candied-apple red, except for one dark crimson ring around the very edge. The scent that I'd detected in the forest that day – deep oak and sweet cherry – filled my senses. I leaned forward slightly, drawn by the almost hypnotic affect he caused...

Then he smirked again, and I came back to myself. He had himself a good laugh as I drew away from him, shocked at my own behavior. I felt like smashing his face into the wall, but I knew it would only be to the wall's ailment. I felt like throwing him overboard, but I knew he couldn't drown. "You are a fool and a tyrant, Demetri."

He left without another word, just chuckles.

Without the distraction of his presence, I then heard the howling of the wind against the ship. Our arrival in Lisbon would no doubt be delayed due to the storm. I sighed at the world, and put my hands out on the cot to lean back against them. My left hand touched something cool on the ratty bed sheet, and I quickly looked down to investigate. I moved my hand from the small line of silver that glimmered through the darkness. Smiling with relief, I gingerly picked up the small chain, and fingered the sparkling charm. I turned it over, and read the endearing inscription over and over again.

_Had Demetri dropped it?_

I clutched the trinket to my chest and felt a small part of my heart return.

_Maybe he's not as uncaring as he puts off,_ Positive suggested.

I immediately denied the thought, and slipped the chain around my neck to fasten it there. The cold metal absorbed some of my minimal body heat as I rested my hand over it.

Positive may have been wrong, but for once, Negative had nothing to say...

* * *

><p><strong>Did you like the dream? I'm thinking of doing one for Jasper, too.<strong>

**Next time: "Volterra and Friends."**

**-Scarlet**


	36. Chapter 33: Into the City Volterra

**Thanks for the reviews, eviltimewaster and ShiningDay! And for the alerts/favs, newty01, ISgrl15, NarutoBigFreak, elsa908, and North I-75.  
><strong>

**There's probably more adjectives in this chapter than the rest of the story altogether, just to warn you. Not the most exciting. Three little things and then I'll shut up:**

**1. Having been disappointed with the Volturi's home in _New Moon_, I've upscaled the castle quite a bit. Most of the elements are from the book... but better, I think. You can be the final judge.  
><strong>

**2. I just discovered the existence of "Volterra, Italy" on Google Maps (who knew?), and did a little Wikipedia-ing. Any details you read will be from there.**

**And, 3. Unlike Bella, Cornelia is _not_ reminded of a child when she sees Aro. He's not a child – he's a overlord vampire ancient for goodness' sake.**

**That is all. Enjoy this chapter.**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 33: Into the City Volterra<br>**

_January 5th 1932, 2:35am_

_Lisbon, Portugal_

During the several-day journey across the Atlantic, I discovered that the children were actually not children. Though it appeared that Demetri was in charge, in reality, it was they who held the authority. They were several centuries his senior – how many, I couldn't be certain – and were also responsible for my safe transportation. Demetri had only been a pawn the entire time.

Furthermore, whatever smidge of compassion Demetri had perhaps shown that first night didn't resurface for the whole of the voyage. It was by accident that I discovered his ability – I was exploring the precipice of the ship's stern and he'd thought I had a mind to jump. I'd asked him how he reached me so quickly, and he replied simply: "I saw your mind's eye in my thoughts, and guessed your depression had finally taken its toll." He then summoned Jane and Alec to pester me about my well-being, and how I must avoid damaging myself in any way. I insisted I wasn't as fragile as they all believed, but they made no further comment.

The childrens' powers – if they possessed any – were still a mystery to me. I speculated that I'd experienced Alec's gift that first night in the forest; the dark trance-like state I had fallen into. However, my mind was often wound with uncertainty.

I had never been more thankful to spy land in all my life.

The port in Lisbon was quite empty when we arrived, well past midnight. After Demetri paid our fare in a currency I didn't recognize, we were on our way through the moonlit streets. We traveled swiftly, avoiding human eyes when possible. Demetri tugged on my arm so painfully that I had to blink back tears. The children – or as I affectionately called them, "Double Debauchery" – trailed along behind us, wearing twin scowls. Apparently, they didn't take kindly to human cities.

"Wait here," Demetri commanded, releasing my forearms from his death grip.

"Why?" I probed, looking up and down the empty street.

We were on the outskirts of the city, away from residential homes. The hour was early in the morning, and some shopkeepers were ambling around to prepare their goods. There was a food market across the road, a bookstore beside that, and we stood on the road in front of a café shop. An elderly Spanish woman stood among the outdoor seating of the establishment, glancing nervously at the three cloaked figures and white-skinned girl looming about.

Demetri did not answer my question, and Jane fixed a tolerant stare upon me. She muttered something under her breath, in a language I couldn't identify. I could only imagine it was Italian.

Alec spared me a delighted grin as he turned to mosey down the street. Jane glided off just as suddenly, but I caught Demetri's arm before he left as well. "Can I safely assume that –"

"It's been long since our last meal – yes, you may." He jerked his arm away from my grasp.

I swallowed; the thought alone sent my stomach churning. "Must you? _Now?_" I glanced up and down the street, wondering what humans would lose their lives...

"We must. Now." He turned again, and this time I blocked his path with my arms held out.

"Your eyes aren't_ very_ dark yet. Please, can't you –?" I couldn't choke out the words, and my nose crinkled in a grimace.

He frowned impatiently. "You must learn to accept our habits, Cornelia, or there will be consequences." The menace in his tone made me recoil slightly.

_At least he didn't say "half breed."_ I stepped in his path again when he tried to meander around. "Have you ever _considered_, Demetri? Perhaps a food source that will not scream in terror when it sees you coming?"

Like Jane had done, he spat a phrase in Italian. Except, this time, the words sounded more like an obscenity than conversation.

I narrowed my eyes at his back as he stalked off. "What a child," I muttered, turning away and folding my arms.

Then, in an instant, Demetri was standing in front of me. His eyes blazed with anger. "What did you say, _half-breed_?" he hissed through his teeth.

I stood my ground, though it was unwise to. "You are many years younger than me, I suspect. You don't know the first thing about –"

"How _dare_ you insult me, girl." His hands were clenched tightly at his sides, as though preventing himself from hurting me. I could see the blue outline of dry veins there through his translucent skin. "I act as the _rest_ of my kind do. As should _you_."

I balked. His sudden accusation came like a smack in the face. "Do not_ speak_ of what you do not_ know_," I whispered venomously. "You are a fool to do so."

His eyes were wide with rage; I must have had a death wish. I heard his teeth gnash together. "I was born in 1802 –" he stopped suddenly, as though keeping himself from continuing. He turned quickly on a heel.

I smiled in triumph. "I was born in 1778!" I called after him. "In Boston!"

Sensing eyes on me, I turned to the old woman standing in the café plaza. By the look on her face, she understood our English perfectly. Her movements had frozen and her eyes were wide.

I instantly realized my mistake, and clasped my hands together awkwardly. "Oh..." I grasped for an excuse for my outrageous claim. "It's a joke... he and I... share." Sighing, I stepped toward her and smiled friendlily. "What's the fare for your tea?"

After making a special early-morning opening, the lady treated me to three cups of orange tea, a vanilla pudding pastry, and her signature flatbread. Due to my heavy gratuity in American dollars, I was able to convince her that I was _not_ indeed born in 1778. I began to feel nervous as the breaking dawn seeped into the sky, washing away the evening stars. We were near the border of the city – ultimately the rural landscape of Spain – but I wondered where my guides had wandered to, and when they would return.

My worries were in vain, however, when I spotted Alec plodding up the road once again. His face was fuller and his eyes were lighter. Jane joined us soon, and Demetri after her. They silently bid me to follow them with their eyes, and we soon reached the treed border of town – just in time for the sunrise. I watched Jane's vivid crimson eyes curiously... picturing the small girl taking a full-grown human by the arm, swinging him around and sinking her teeth right in his –

When Demetri took ahold of my forearm and swung me onto his back suddenly, I grasped his cloak to keep from tipping over. Much Jasper often did, he seized my knees and secured them to his waist. "Put me down!" I barked angrily. I clutched the black material on his shoulders and spurred my heels into his sides. "_Demetri!_"

Ignoring my pleas, he began running faster than human sight through the trees. Jane and Alec led slightly ahead, and Demetri kept perfect pace with them even though I struggled. "This will go much smoother if you cease your resistance, half-breed," he said coolly over his shoulder.

I ceased my resistance soon after, and the journey went much smoother.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

It took us less than a day to reach the Apennine Peninsula. We traveled south from there, across a massive space of Italian cropland. We journeyed even during the day, far sequestered from human sight. When Demetri informed me that we were approximately an hour from the city, I began taking more notice of the scenery.

The grass and wheat fields were covered in light snow, which made me wonder what they looked like in the spring. The white hills rolled up to the clear sky in gentle waves. Once we reached the peak of one, there was a thousand more to take its place. Much like the luscious plains of my homeland, Italy held the marvelous beauty of natural, open country.

About five miles after that, I spotted a dot of civilization over the next ridge. The wall of the city was sandstone, standing wide and fat around the buildings within. Each brick of this wall was a different color or shape – the city must have been built very long ago, I imagined. I'd never seen anything like it, nor the locked portcullis that protected the inhabitants.

The sun was sinking in the horizon to the west, casting a light pink hue in the clouds that lingered. As we approached that great walled city, a feeling of unease settled itself within me. Nerves were natural... but not for me. My hands became clammy and my stomach twisted into knots. We approached the city from the west, and Demetri hefted me up when I failed to scale the wall.

We entered Volterra like ghosts as the sun sunk into the earth. The inside was much like the outside – the architecture was light-colored stone with terra-cotta tiles. The streets were jagged cobblestone, and looked perhaps older than the walls themselves. Yellow lights shone from the residences, and humans scurried about to close up their businesses. The scene was straight out of a storybook, or a step back in the immortal history of mankind. My eyes beheld all this with wonder; I was unused to such impressiveness.

However, I saw little more of the city when my companions pulled me into an alley. They carried on swiftly – too swiftly, perhaps – and I nearly jogged to keep up with them. They weaved in and out of buildings, being masters of the maze of Volterra. I wondered how old they truly were, and what vampire-human diplomacy was practiced. _Not a great amount, no doubt._

"How long have the Volturi been here?" I then asked.

All three whirled on me quite suddenly, and I nearly stumbled into them when I screeched to a stop. "_Hold your tongue!_" Jane hissed. "You mustn't speak of such things here, girl."

Only her glowing red eyes kept me from chuckling at the term "girl" coming from her mouth. I straightened, and nodded sharply. "Forgive me. I didn't realize..."

"Of course you didn't," Alec spat, throwing a slight look at Jane. "How could you have known?" He turned to me then, and I saw a bit of humanity in his eyes. "Everything will be explained to you soon."

I smiled in appreciation. _Perhaps it's only his sister that is cruel... perhaps not._ "Thank you very much. I only wish to respect the image you've created here."

"Come along," Demetri snapped, catching Alec's gaze with a wary eye. "We're expected by morning – Aro will be pleased to know we're early."

I felt my anxieties bubble back to the surface as we carried on. Once we emerged from our alleyways, I found that we had entered an even more splendorous part of Volterra. I gasped at the high pinnacles of the sanctuary _Santa Maria Assunta_, and immediately wondered what the inside looked like. The rectangular bell tower was so high that it caused my head to spin. Then, we entered the _Palazzo dei Priori_, where a tall clock tower chimed the sixth hour of evening. Upon the clock face, there was a gold-and-red coat of arms, which I only assumed was the Volterra crest. The scene within the gold frame was the fight of two beasts – a red griffith and a green dragon – with a golden, bejeweled crown at the top. We passed by the wide, stone fountain with such haste that the elderly man sitting there didn't spare a glance.

Perhaps I was looking at the state of Jesus in the courtyard when Demetri announced our arrival, because he took my chin in his chilly hand and turned my head. I nearly stumbled back in my own surprise. It wasn't merely a home, but a _castle_. The peaks were high and square, and the lookout towers were wide and round. The structure was made up of large, roughly cut stones – much like the rest of the city. I half expected there to be a mote, but there was only a carved wooden entryway. The scene on the ancient, massive door was Biblical. _They truly are royalty..._

I couldn't pause to study the spectacle closer, because Demetri was pulling me along again. "Don't break that little mind of yours, half-breed," he said. A smirk was on his face when I turned to glare at him.

We passed by the large door, and entered the castle from the side, in what appeared to be a sublevel. The candlelit arch gave way to a labyrinth of tunnels, which the three maneuvered in the way they had the city. The dark, damp tunnels soon faded into elaborately marbled corridors. We paused at a set of tall wooden doors, which Alec politely opened for Jane. I peered inside to find an even larger hall, marbled from the floor to the walls. It was large and wide, with a chandelier of candles lighting the red and gold walls in an eerie glow. The polished marble felt as wide as the earth beneath my feet, and I tried to make shapes with the grey, red, and black squares there. And then I looked across, and found that the flood did make a shape – a large grey oval, with the red inlay of a _V_...

Suddenly, a foreign scent hit me like a title wave. My head snapped up to the corner of the door, where a large mahogany desk sat. The surface was scattered with papers, and the distinct sound of a scratching pencil met my ears. A human – female, dark-haired, average-sized – sat behind this desk, hunched over, writing rapidly across a page.

My blood froze, and I turned rigidly to Demetri, who had troubled himself to remain by my side. "I wasn't aware –"

"Humans are not welcome here," he interrupted curtly, nodding his head to the desk. "She is Rosemary... the secretary."

My eyes hesitated on the mortal for a long moment. The concept puzzled me, but I shoved my confusion aside. On the far wall of the massive entrance hall was another set of doors, the largest yet, gilded pure gold and shimmering in the dim lighting. Something rather ironic dawned on me then... _There's no windows._

"Demetri!" I jumped at the loud voice. "You've returned!"

Two vampires entered the hall from an open corridor to the west. The male, who had spoken, was a sheer giant – tall as the sky and more muscled than Hercules. His dark hair was cropped short, and a broad smile adorned his pale face. The woman beside him was tall as well, which was not obvious beside the male, with a graceful gait and striking beauty. Her hair was dark chocolate brown, arranged into an stylish bun. They wore expensive, elegant clothes from centuries past – much like one would expect to find in a castle.

I felt a wave of chagrin when I recalled my own attire... plain, tan slacks and a faded, sage sweater. I'd picked up the ensemble in southern France, after ruining my old clothes in a thunderstorm along the way. I could only hope that the black ribbon holding half my hair up was straight.

"Felix, it's good to see you, my friend." Demetri smiled – a very out-of-character action for him indeed – and stepped forward to heartily shake the man's outstretched hand.

The woman grasped his shoulders and kissed both his cheeks. "Welcome home, Demetri dear." Her tone was tender and affectionate; it caused me great pause. She then whispered something in Italian, which instigated my heart to thump with nerves."We've missed you so," she added in English.

_Did she say something about me?_

She greeted the children then, but her eyes were on me. "This must be _her_," she purred, coming closer than I preferred. She offered a hand with a warm smile, and I hesitated at the uncustomary gesture before taking it. His slim hand felt feather-light in my grasp. "My name's Heidi, sweet." Her sweet voice was like birdsong. "Welcome to Volterra."

"I am Cornelia," I replied, tipping my head as I dropped her hand. "Your home is marvelous."

She giggled and glanced at her companion. "We enjoy it..." She then presented the tall man with a grand flourish of her hands. "Cornelia, this is Felix. Say 'hello,' Felix."

"Hello, Felix," he murmured with a chuckle, holding his hand out as well.

I resisted the urge to flinch away from his hand; it looked like a formidable weapon. "Good to meet you, Felix," I said warily, glancing at his dancing red eyes from beneath my lashes. My hand was lost in the vastness of his, and he dipped his head to kiss my knuckles.

"And such a pleasure to finally meet you, Cornelia," he answered with a rich, resounding voice. "I'm curious..." He left my hand fall from his grasp and held his chin. "What's it like being a half-breed?"

I smiled awkwardly as Heidi gasped and scolded his manners. She spouted apologies that I readily accepted, and we were soon interrupted by Jane, who had presently floated back into the room. "Aro is expecting for you – don't keep him waiting." She collected me away from the others and directed me to the golden doors.

What I had found beautiful before now held intimidation for me. The human at the desk looked up from her paperwork, and watched me with a curious, icy blue gaze. When I made eye contact, her eyes darted away as though not seeing me. Not knowing what was the proper etiquette for the specific situation, I simply turned to face the golden entrance once again. Jane went before me, and eased the great door open as though they were a picket gate.

"May I present Aro, Marcus, and Caius Volturi. Renata stands by Aro, and Chelsea and Afton wait to the side."

Not hearing anything at all that Jane had said, I swallowed dryly as the next room was revealed to me. It was much like the previous room, except for its rectangular shape. Tapestries and painting littered the walls, all more ancient than any artifact I'd yet seen. The floors were grey marble, and the ceiling reminded me of a sanctuary; its vaulted, arched design made my eyes widen. Then my eyes fell upon the three seats – thrones, rather – at the very end of the pitch-black, narrow carpet on which I stood. The thrones were ancient stone, with roaring lion's heads carved on the arms and massive paws on the feet.

Upon these thrones, three vampires sat. On the left there sat a man with shoulder-length, silvery blond hair; he stared relentlessly at me, and I couldn't decide whether it was from anger or hatred. A man with wavy black hair sat on the left, his head tipped to the side as he gazed at me carelessly, with empty eyes that betrayed his broken soul. As I watched this man, his eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward to touch the man beside him on the shoulder. The man in the center held out his hand after this, but his keen scarlet gaze was fixed solely on me. His hair was black and straight, and came down past his cloaked shoulders. He smiled suddenly when the other man set his fingers on his waiting palm, and immediately stood in one sinuous movement.

Their general appearance was similar. With skin beyond pale, it had a fluid-like exterior... The closest thing that could describe it was the way the surface of milk appears after you heat it up and let it sit. Their bloodied eyes had a clouded, almost glossy look to them...

...just as humans' look when they've died with their eyes open.

My steps automatically froze when the center vampire stood, and I stared at his dead eyes with a slowly mounting terror. "Come closer, child." His voice was smooth like oil and severe like thunder.

_He is Aro... he must be._ I reacted accordingly, forcing my steps to be measured. The female that Jane had referred to as "Renata" made to follow Aro when he began forward, but he held up a hand to stop her. Once we were reasonably near each other, he stopped and offered a hand. I paused minutely, and felt a thousand eyes on me as the slow moments stretched.

With a deep, steadying breath, I strode forward and reached out to take his hand.

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><p><strong>How was it? Please review and tell me.<strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>


	37. Chapter 34: Castle Life

**Thanks for the reviews, eviltimewaster, North I-75, and Udumuhv! And the fav/alert, Demonic Flame and DWgeek2010.**

**There's nothing much more to say than... enjoy this chapter.**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 34: Castle Life<strong>

_January 6th 1932, 6:12am_

_Volterra, Italy_

His hand was coarse – as though he'd just chaffed it on sandpaper – and as cold as a block of ice. Looks of amazement, horror, curiosity, anguish, and amusement passed over his face as his icy fingers closed around my hand. A very strange sensation rippled through me at the contact... My mind reeled with flashes of memories, and my own thoughts were whispered back to me a chilling voice. I absently wondered if one may experience such a thing just before death, or perhaps, in a moment of great danger. A wicked smile spread on his face, and I quickly snatched my hand away.

"How _fascinating_!" he exclaimed, his thrilled voice reverberating against the hollow walls and ceiling. A scholar's look came into his eye as he stepped around me, taking in every angle. As he came closer, I took in his unusually potent scent. It was heather and rain – the strongest scent I'd yet encountered. _Does his age make it so?_

His proximity unnerved me, so I stepped back from him. However, he seized my wrist before my foot had touched the floor, and pulled me sharply forward. I stumbled slightly, and felt the chill of his hand pushing the hair away from my neck. I stood with intuitive rigidness as his frozen fingers probed the layered scars there. _James' bites..._

"Indeed," he commented grimly, releasing my neck and wrist simultaneously.

I didn't dare to say a thing as he circled slowly around me. My utter terror set my confusion aside for the moment. I nervously followed him with my eyes as he pondered me.

"Absolutely _enthralling_," he breathed quietly, rapturously. He sighed and held his chin in his hand, as though thoroughly pleased with something. Then, quite suddenly, "My dear!" His eyes searched my in surprise. "Had they not the courtesy to _tell_ you?"

My brow furrowed and my mouth hung open. _What am I to say?_ "E-Excuse me?"

A smile ghosted his pale lips, and he rose his hand again. "I have the ability to see your thoughts and memories... by a simple touch." He chuckled softly as I absorbed this information. _If he's seen my memories, then he must know –_

His icy fingers brushed my cheekbone, and I flinched away in shock. "Everything about you!" he exclaimed happily, finishing my thought with a cruel smile of delight. My apprehension instantly turned to mortification. I hadn't planned on encountering another mind reader in my existence. I felt heat rise to my face as Aro laughed exultantly.

A voice as cold as winter interrupted his enjoyment, with a single command: "Afton, leave us."

Then, a male vampire that I hadn't noticed before hurried the room. I gazed after him as he went – his jaw was clenched and his eyes were on the ground. The throne room doors clattered shut after him, and I gave a little start at the ominous sound.

Aro glanced back at the man with silver hair in his throne, who had spoken. Turning to me, he clicked his tongue musingly. "It seems that my dear brother has little faith in Afton, dear one. Some of us lack the control necessary to be in your very _presence_!" He clapped his hands together at the last word, and smiled gleefully. "Is it not amusing to you?" he chuckled.

The very suggestion made my teeth grit together. "No, it is not," I declared, shaking my head.

His eyes turned speculative. "Cornelia" – he smiled after he said this – "our laws prohibit your existence quite exclusively, aren't you aware?"

I felt a chill pass over my body. _Is he saying he's going to _kill_ me?_

My reaction pleased him, and he raised his hand to my face once again. His frozen fingers began a line at my temple that ended at my chin; it took everything in my being to remain motionless. "However, we shall make a special exception... for your _very_ unique case."

"Please, sir –" My throat constricted before I could go on.

"Yes?" he said expectantly, surveying me carefully.

"Why is... my existence... prohibited?" My voice trembled and my knees shook under his scrutiny. I was walking a thin line... I'd never imagined that I came there to die.

He looked surprised by my question, but only slightly. He smiled complacently. "Your life has been _troubled_, has it not?"

I stared at him for a moment, trying to accept that he'd experienced my entire life through one touch. I then became worried about my present thoughts; he was sure to hear them the next time he touched me. "Yes," I answered simply.

He nodded perceptively. "This is why."

It was enlightened, logical, and... cruel. He offered a hand again, and I felt very disinclined to take it. But when his eyes narrowed, I knew it would be unwise to resist in any way. I lightly placed my hand in his rough one, and winced when I felt my thoughts virtually dissected.

A look of honest concern overtook his face, and he immediately dropped my hand. "Don't fret! We've only the best in mind for you, dear one." He didn't continue until I gave a small nod. "In the meantime, though I know you are very opposed to it" – he smirked slightly, as though recalling something amusing – "I do believe we could mutually benefit if you remained here with us."

_Remain?_ Alarms went off in my head and panic gripped me. "Sir, I don't –"

"Please," he interrupted warmly. "You may call me 'Aro.'"

"Aro," I amended, feeling only slightly less anxious. "I don't wish to stay here. My life in America –" I stopped short when a dark look flashed in his eyes, and suddenly wished that I hadn't said anything at all.

"A new year has only just begun – stay with us for the length of it, won't you." The offer sounded very much like an order. "You may deem it more fitting than your life in America. No death, attacks, or devastation... you may favor it."

The choice was plain... if there _was_ a choice. So, I disregarded the unease that the castle caused, the nerves I harbored as I stood there, and the aching loss I felt when I thought of Jasper. I believed that my very life depended upon the next words that I spoke. "Of course, Aro." I nodded formally and felt a great burst of confidence, as though Jasper had been there all along. "I would be thoroughly delighted."

"Splendid!" He clapped again, twice this time. "Heidi, please make the proper accommodations. Something at the far end... to avoid unnecessary complications..." He addressed the female I'd met, even though she waited outside the thick throne room doors. Then, turning his attention back to me, he bowed slightly at the waist. "Welcome to our home, Cornelia. I'll summon you very soon to speak more with you; I have other matters that require my attention presently."

I managed the best curtsey I could in my perturbed condition, and forced a hindered smile. I was speechless, from either fear or astonishment.

You are quite the specimen," he added as he turned away.

Taking this as my cue to leave, I quickly turned and scurried down the carpet once again. The golden doors opened seemingly of their own, and I passed by a chuckling Alec as I exited. The whole company was there still, and I sensed that they had listened to every word exchanged in the other room. Heidi separated herself from them, and took my elbow in a light – yet restraining – grasp. Her scent was vivid due to the nearness... a powerful, caramel fragrance.

"Demetri, a word with you." Aro's voice came through the open doors, and the group's attention shifted from me to Demetri as he drew wordlessly by. He spared me an emotionless glance, which a returned easily. Alec closed the doors after him, and left the room like an apparition. Jane then disappeared as well. _What could Aro want with Demetri?_

Heidi's sugary voice brought me back from my musings. "Would you like the tour, or visit your chambers first?" She slowly guided me from the entrance hall, toward the second corridor from which she'd first come.

_If I was expecting anything at all, this definitely wasn't it._ "The t-tour?" I clarified warily, and she took that readily as an answer.

"Very good. Come along, Felix," she called to the man trailing behind. Then she giggled. "I may forget something, you know."

The castle, mostly underground, was massive.

The "subbasement" – as they called it – consisted of a dungeon, and the tunnel system through which I had entered. They told me these tunnels connected to much of the sewer systems in Volterra, which were used to maneuver the city during the daytime, whenever such measures were required.

The library was three-times the size of the throne room, stalked to the brim with books that ranged from ancient Alexandria to Paris' most recent bestseller. The shelves reached to the ceiling of the four-story room, with carpeted staircases weaving between for ease of access. There were more books to read than could be achieved in several lifetimes.

The music room was specially designed for acoustics, and contained every instrument you could imagine.

The ballroom was rarely used, but served its purpose for special occasions; it was one of the few rooms in which windows allowed sunlight to enter.

The art room housed all creative recreation of the castle – it was untidy with paints, marble, oils, and clay. We stumbled across a Guard member there by the name of Santiago, whom Felix teased was the castle's connoisseur of culture.

The lounge was... well, a lounge. Tables and couches were thrown throughout the red-carpeted room, and a dark wood and granite hearth covered nearly an entire wall. Felix informed me – to my great surprise – that a weekly chess tournament was held there.

Also to my surprise, the kitchen was large and spacious. However, upon further investigation, I realized that it hadn't been updated since the last century. An antique wood furnace sat empty in the corner, and the room obviously lacked the convenience of plumbing.

The courtyard at the rear of the castle was hidden from sight by a twenty-foot stone wall. I estimated it must be ten to fifteen acres, but the enormous lake added even more. Heidi told me that they'd dug the lake themselves two centuries ago, having grown tired of the green scenery. The garden was brown and withered for the winter, but they mentioned that the "mistresses" often tended the vegetation.

Other things of interest littered the innumerable corridors and rooms of the castle. You couldn't walk very far without seeing priceless artwork and tapestries across the walls. Old archeological artifacts were on display in the library and lounge; including the Magna Carta, pieces of Aztec gold, and prehistoric writings in Sumerian and Babylonian. When I queried after the famous British document, and the fact that the original was supposed to be illegible, they both turned their heads and muttered an incoherent reply.

We had come to the end of our tour hours later, and the conversation had fallen. We walked slowly down a dim corridor (very few candles were lit in the castle, and it lacked electrical wiring), and Heidi clear her throat to speak. "This may be a bit too forward, but..." I caught her hesitant expression and nodded for her to continue. "How old are you, Cornelia?"

I was relieved at the simple question. "That's a fine question to ask, and not forward at all. I was born in 1778."

"Heidi's _older_ than you," Felix whispered behind Heidi's back, winking playfully at me. I smiled at his joke as Heidi swatted at his arm. The relaxed atmosphere that the two created had eased my nerves substantially. I had quickly observed that they were unofficially "together."

"_Felix,_" Heidi scolded sourly. "It's true – I was turned in 1604. A Guard member found me and thought I'd have an amazing ability had I been a vampire..." I sensed that she would say little more on the subject, so I didn't press it further.

"Neither do I hold an ability. But don't you, Cornelia?" Felix asked, glancing sideways at me.

The question startled me. I'd assumed that they already knew. "Yes. I call it a shield, for lack of a better word." I paused before the round of another corner and held out my hand. Feeling a cool rush on my fingertips, a white mist appeared before me. Heidi and Felix gasped, and moved closer to the shield.

"It _is_ a shield," Felix commented as he tapped the barrier with his index finger.

"How astounding!" Heidi beamed, obviously impressed. "My Master must have a lot in mind for you..."

I lowered my hand, bothered by their appraisal. Conceit was a thing very foreign to me. "I'd thought you would know... It seemed like the Guard was quite informed of me."

"On the contrary," Heidi refuted, her eyebrows raised. "We knew little of you. Aro sent Demetri to find you after a" – she paused as if searching for the right term – "friend of ours mentioned you. My Master has a craving for knowledge, you see, and he was determined to meet you in person."

My curiosity peaked. "'Friend'? Do I know of this person?"

They exchanged cautious glances; they hadn't been prepared to answer that. Heidi's mouth opened several seconds before she spoke. "Perhaps... He is Eleazar."

The name triggered something in my mind, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. I began walking again as I pondered, but nothing came to mind readily. _Perhaps I do not know him._ Wanting to shift the conversation away from myself, I asked, "Do most of the Guard have powers? I know only of Demetri's."

"_Some_ of us are gifted... there are about thirty members of the Guard, though many come and go." Heidi walked with her hands twined behind herself, and her words came swiftly and smoothly. "Renata – you perhaps saw her – has the ability to confuse a select target in a certain range, turning their attention away. She works as a shield for Aro, a protector. You were told of Aro's gift – I apologize for the little warning. Marcus senses the type and magnitude of relationships between persons; Chelsea can manipulate relationship ties between the same. Eleazar – who is... away on business right now – can sense what gift a vampire possesses. And Isaac can travel through time."

I accepted all of this will little dispute; however, the last one made me gasp. "He can _travel through time_?"

Heidi laughed at my surprised face. "Well, he's only done it once. It's an incredible strain on him, you see – he is very young. Aro has worked tirelessly with the poor dear..."

Felix made a face at Heidi's sympathetic tone. "It's a dangerous power, I think. Aro shouldn't be tampering with things he cannot control."

Felix's boldness surprised me, and I saw a experienced glint in his eye. _How old is this vampire to be so questioning of his master? _"I must agree, Felix. The gift sounds unpredictable... what if he traveled somewhere and couldn't return?"

Felix grunted in agreement while Heidi's worried eyes traveled between us. "You shouldn't speak of such things with guests, Felix," she said softly.

Feeling awkward, I took a sharp breath and said, "I have been very curious about Alec and Jane's powers... for some time now."

This seemed to brighten Felix's demeanor. "Aro's favorites."

Heidi frowned. "Yes, they _are_ valuable members of the Guard, and the most powerful."

"Disputable," Felix muttered.

I fell silent, beginning to believe that "Double Debauchery" could be a lacking name.

"Jane can cause people to feel pain; pain that's not there." Heidi's face was drawn with gravity. "Alec blocks one's senses... makes you blind, deaf..."

I nodded somberly. "I believe I gathered Alec's from experience. It made for quite the introduction."

They both fell short suddenly; I stopped as well. A penetrating fragrance reached me – as vivid as Aro's heather scent. The two presences came from behind, and I turned with Heidi and Felix to meet them.

There was two women, walking closely-knit together, whispering to each other. They wore robes of purple and red silk, with gold and black ties around their waists and arms. A third female, considerably younger, trailed along behind. Her black hair was cropped short, and her dark attire was that of a servant. She came to a sudden halt and turned away.

"She's a trifle to look as, isn't she?" snickered the first woman.

The second sighed. "It's _plain_ beauty that surpasses all, dear Athenodora."

The first had long, wispy blond hair that was folded into an intricate, gilded head ornament. The second was shorter, and had a softer appearance – not as ostentatious, perhaps – with a similar shade of hair that nearly reached her ankles. Slippers of fine silk were on their feet, and their swift footsteps were silent across the marble floors. They too had powdery, translucent skin and filmy eyes. The strong scents also confirmed that they were as ancient as Aro.

"Mistresses, it is an honor," Heidi said with great respect. Both she and Felix curtsied and bowed in greeting, but the women did the taller one didn't acknowledge them.

"This is _her_?" she asked curtly. Her milky red eyes traveled up and down my appearance with a condescending air. His lip curled back over her teeth in a silent look of disgust.

"Yes, Lady Athenodora. This is Cornelia of... America."

"It's a great pleas-sure." My voice cracked, thoroughly embarrassing me.

The other woman laughed like a bubbling brook, but I sensed her good nature right away. Her eyes were almost warm as she looked at me, instead of cold like Athenodora's. She offered her hand with her knuckles up, and I returned the gesture by brushing my fingers with hers. "I am Sulpicia, my dear. Forgive the gesture" – she pulled her hand away and giggled into it – "I'm afraid my husband's habits often get the better of me."

Her lighthearted manner lifted my spirits. "An honor," I returned, unable to contain a smile.

She cocked her head to the side, giving her still form an almost doll-like appearance. "Aro is quite taken with you, I hear."

My face flushed as I searched for words.

Heidi, providentially, intervened for me. "We were just showing Cornelia the sights, my Ladies."

"The castle is spectacular," I managed to add.

"We only strive to give some disposition to these stone walls," Sulpicia chimed, motioning warmly to her companion. Athenodora's scowl deepened when I glanced up at her. "We shall return to our day now, Cornelia. We bid you welcome to our home."

They were suddenly gone, wisping away down the hall once more. I heard a murmur – so quiet I couldn't depict whom it belonged to – too fast and low for any lesser hearing... "It isn't often that Aro finds such a nice toy!"

The girl with short black hair edged over to us after the Ladies had left, and eyed me with caution. Her steps were graceful, but her shoulders slouched in an almost vulnerable way. Suddenly, I felt an undeniable contentedness spread through me like warm milk. It washed away any previous reservation I held. She didn't seem to notice my abrupt smile, and her beady red eyes darted to Heidi when she spoke.

"Come greet Cornelia, won't you, Corin?"

Corin bowed to me sharply, and I returned it with a nod of my head. "Cornelia," she said hastily. The only word that I could use to describe her mannerisms was "tomboyish."

"It's a pleasure, Corin." I offered her a smile, but it was not returned.

"I will get back to my Mistresses now," she said, with a small voice like a child's.

Then, Corin left us... and I didn't feel quite as satisfied as before.

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><p><strong>Is everyone in character? I know much isn't known about the character "Corin," but I wanted to give her a shot. I'd love to know what you think.<strong>

**Next time: "A Talk with Aro."**

**-Scarlet**


	38. Chapter 35: A Talk with Aro

**How is everyone this fine Saturday morning? I'm wearing a scarf indoors because of the cold; but I digress... December is my favorite month.  
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**Anyway... Thanks for the reviews, North I-75 and** **eviltimewaster; and the alerts, RyokoxSenpai and Jelly Sallad.**

**In Breaking Dawn, I found it dumb that the Volturi weren't aware of hybrid existence. If they've been around for as long as S. M. says, then they should know **_**everything about everything**_**. Feel me? So, in my story, Aro is perfectly informed of hybrids, and only freaked-out about Nessie because Irina said the bad words IMMORTAL CHILD. So... there you have it.**

**Please enjoy this chapter.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**

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><p><strong>Chapter 35: A Talk with Aro<strong>

_January 9th 1932, 7:48am_

_Volterra, Italy_

_ Jasper– A year. Will write the address soon. My heart is left with you, my love. –Cornelia_

I carefully handed the telegram to Felix, who wore a devilish smile. "Do not open it," I instructed carefully. "Let _only_ the operator read it."

"You know I never read your love-letters, Cornelia," he teased with a smile.

I glowered as he swept away, and watched him swiftly retreat down the corridor from my chambers, before I had a chance to retaliate. Sighing, I turned back into my room and softly closed the heavy wooden door – a soft, wood-on-stone thump resulting. A skeleton key was stuck into the inside lockbox; I hadn't used the lock in the three days I had been there.

My chambers consisted of a sitting room – which one would enter straightaway – and a sleeping area. The main room had stone floors, stone walls, and a stone ceiling. Since there was no hearth, I was constantly bundled in the extravagant wardrobe that Heidi had selected for me. A large rug covered the space of the room, weaved with reds, browns, and greens in the shape of a ragged rosebush. The room was also one of the few with windows – there were two overlooking the town five stories below. Two couches of cream cashmere were separated by a low-lying book table, upon which some volumes from the library were scattered. The sleeping room consisted of a bed – very large – with deep red satin bed sheets and thick hanging curtains. A clothes cabinet contained the extent of my wardrobe... I found it a miracle that the wide dresses and thick coats fit within.

I had spent the majority of my time there with Heidi and Felix. Other members of the Guard tended to avoid me; I had received several nasty glances in the halls. Apparently, not everyone supported Aro's decision to bring me there. Even Demetri hadn't made a scornful half-breed" comment in days. The more time passed, the more I became nervous as to _why_ Aro hadn't yet summoned me.

My hand slipped unconsciously into the panel of my red silks and closed around the small paper there. To my great astonishment, a telegram had arrived at the local wire office the evening before, addressed to me. It had been dispatched from Jasper, bearing the two words: "How long. Write 226 Cherry St. Philadelphia. Sorry no money." Though I knew the high cost of international telegrams, and Jasper's definite lack of money, I couldn't help but be disappointed by the curt message. I had already sent a letter to the address in Philadelphia, but I only wished that Jasper was still near the same wire location, to receive my reply quicker.

Pulling back the emerald green curtains from the window, I gazed out over the hazy morning in Volterra. A thick, looming cold front had blown in; snow was to follow shortly, no doubt. The cold mist hung between the orange rooftops of the city, and my eyes could see the forms of mortals darting about their morning. I was surprised to spot Felix strolling down the street, direction for the wire office, wearing his "day clothes." His Volturi garb was far too eye-catching for the lazy Saturday morning.

The clock tower in the distance struck eight, and I once again wondered what business Heidi had excused herself for, hours before.

Becoming rather bored, I put an extra shawl around my shoulders and stole from the room. To "avoid unnecessary complications," my chamber assignment had been placed in a deserted region of the castle, far from any of its vampire inhabitants. Members such as Afton and Alistar found it too great a temptation to come near me, and my hosts took all essential precautions.

I came upon the vaulted entrance of the music room, its tall yet narrow doors open slightly. I sampled the feel of the smooth maple wood beneath my fingertips before pushing the left door open. I had briefly visited the room the first day, but hadn't been familiarized with it yet. Instruments of every variety were tossed about the grand-ceilinged room, some upon small platforms, others sitting on the crimson carpet. Harps, violins, cellos, clarinets, trumpets, pipe organs, and many others. There were even some foreign instruments that I couldn't recognize. And then, to my pleasure, I spotted the fleet of pianos in the midst of it all. Grand, upright, bright, honkytonk... every size and color you could possibly imagine. They drew me like a powerful magnet.

Selecting a black, polished upright, I sat lightly at the bench. I frowned at the thick layer of dust covering the keys, and did my best to wipe it clean with my extra smock. Tossing the soiled garment aside, I placed my hands and began the first song in mind.

"Fantasy in D Minor" by Mozart was the product. My hands crossed over themselves in the wistful introduction, and the notes sounded pure and true under my fingers. The high, winding notes sang like angels in a choir. Entering the melody, my left hand picked out the broken chords while my right trilled the triplets in the melancholy melody. The next section was faster, more lively, with sharp quarter notes and staccatos. Faster and faster until... a pause before the return to the melody. A sudden break in mood and form lead to the next section, which began with a difficult crescendo of a lapping minor scale. During this accelerando scale, a sudden presence from behind caused me to hit a wrong note in my surprise.

I promptly stopped, and whirled around on the slick piano bench. "Demetri...?"

If possible, his smirk grew even more sinister. "Aro would speak with you now, half-breed."

My elation over this news caused my irritation to diminish. "Excellent. Thank you for informing me."

He cocked a black brow as I slipped between him and a tall cello. "I'll guide you there, as well."

I halted and spoke over tartly my shoulder. "I can find my way, Demetri."

"_Can_ you?" he challenged incredulously.

I clenched my fists haughtily, once again despising his egotistical attitude about my lack of bearing. I usually had the best sense of direction, but the labyrinth of corridors in the castle always bamboozled me. "I... believe so."

"Come along," he sighed, hitching me by the elbow as he sped past. "Aro will be further displeased with me if you delay."

I hobbled along after him, and felt a devious smile on my lips. "Aro is _displeased_ with you, Demetri?" I asked, with a subtle hint of mischief.

His steps slowed, and I knew I'd hit a sensitive spot. "What business is it of _yours_, girl?" He released my arm as we entered the corridor, and I marched along after his broad steps.

"Well..." I contemplated a neutral response. "I don't wish to cause you any more trouble, is all."

"What leads you to believe that you are the cause –?" He growled softly after he said this, as though regretting to have asked.

"I only assumed...," I mumbled. "I may have thought some disdainful things of you, and surly Aro saw..."

He stopped abruptly then, and I nearly injured myself by slamming into his back. He whirled on me, but his face was strangely controlled. "I... _apologize_... for any wrong I may have done to you. My opinions on your race contradict that of my Master's, and this is a mistake I have corrected." He said all of this with little conviction, and his blazing gaze was almost a loathing glare.

I stood under his hating eyes with little compunction. He was obviously insincere, and I suspected that his words had been _assigned_ to be spoken. "You do not like me," I stated simply.

He took a sharp breath through his nose, and rose his hands to either side of me, as if reaching out to make a grab. His muscles were tensed, as though stopping himself from tearing me into shreds. He stiffened suddenly, plastering his arms to his sides. "You can find the rest of the way," he said quietly, fighting for control. Then, he was gone with a flourish of charcoal cloak.

Slightly perturbed by the entire situation, I looked about myself in a daze. I had no idea where I was – which corridor, which level, which area. _Am I in the recreation area or the residential? _I wandered around for about twenty minutes, trying to put sense to the enigma of Demetri.

Then, as I turned another particularly dank corner, I heard voices.

" – _she has simply too strong_?" It belonged to Aro, and I began tracing the source of the voice with hurried steps.

"_I don't know, Master,_" a small, female voice responded. "_It is as though her bonds between others are nearly inexistent._"

Then Aro spoke again, "_Marcus, what do you see of this_?"

I heard a new speaker, whom I assumed was Marcus. "_It's as I said before, Aro. Any relationships that she does have must be superficial, or, perhaps, she simply doesn't acknowledge their presence. She is indifferent, brother. Indifferent and petty._"

There was silence for a moment, then I heard the female's voice again. "_Master, are you –?_"

"_Don't trouble yourself further, my child. Thank you for trying. You may leave us, Chelsea._"

I had finally neared the throne room, in which the conversation had been held, and I jogged into the entrance hall. My many layers of coats were needed no longer, as my heart pounded from my run through the halls. Rosemary – the human secretary there – watched me curiously as I huffed and puffed, coming to lean against her desk. I tried to control the heat in my cheeks to no avail. "I've been told... to meet... with Aro –"

"Are you alright, ma'am?" she asked concernedly. The black rims of her glasses outlined her greet eyes in an almost owl-like manner, which gave her a very odd appearance. I would estimate her age about early thirties, though my familiarity with human ageing was very slim indeed.

"Yes..., Rosemary. I'll just need a moment." Though I had implored the human to address me by my given name, she habitually gave me the same title as all other women in the castle. She was a very bizarre individual, I had determined... even by human standards.

The throne room doors opened softly, and a slim female slipped out. I recognized her as Chelsea – I'd only seen her from afar, whenever Heidi pointed her out. Her red eyes were skeptical, and her manner was that of a Duchess trapped in a teenaged body. _How young was she when they turned her, I wonder?_ She gave me a reproachful look as she passed, and I felt very disinclined to start relations with her at that moment.

My eyes must have been wary as they drifted unconsciously to Rosemary, for she gave me an encouraging look and pointed to the doors. "Aro can see you now."

I nodded in thanks and strolled to the elaborate entrance. Not knowing the correct etiquette when entering the hall of ancient vampire overlords, I simply pushed one door aside and stepped through, leaving it ajar. Aro lounged on his throne with a pensive, distant expression, and Sulpicia sat at his feet with her hands folded in the pink lace that spilt around her. Renata remained at her usual post, and Marcus sat in his throne, wearing a skeptical look.

When Aro laughed suddenly, and motioned for me to draw nearer, Marcus and Sulpicia rose silently, and left. I nearly staggered back when the two passed by me – the strong, combined scents overpowered my senses. However, I managed to reach the low dais upon which the seats sat, and curtsey politely. I felt a jolt of intimidation as I realized it was only to two of us there... and Renata.

Smiling wickedly, Aro then tapped Marcus' throne with his ghost-white hand. "Sit!" he ordered happily.

I inched up the shallow, carpeted steps and maneuvered myself into the giant, stone throne that Marcus Volturi had just occupied... It wasn't warm.

"You have many questions, I know." His droll eyes danced as he watched my every breath. "Start with the most important, if you will. Our time is inadequate for all of them."

My mind narrowed on the first thing I'd wondered since arriving. "How old are you?"

He burst out laughing at my question, but it wasn't condescending. "Quite old, dear one... quite old indeed." He rose his eyebrows in a self-aggrandizing way, as though his next words were a challenge. "Nearly three millennia, in fact."

I felt my face drain, and I wasn't as overheated as before.

"Aren't you surprised?" he presumed, very amused.

"Yes," I answered solemnly. Then, without thinking, "Isn't it horrible?"

He seemed surprised by my reprisal, and tapped his chin thoughtfully with a single finger. "One would think," he said absently. "However, I find the progression of the human race thoroughly _fascinating_... don't you agree?"

I nodded politely, though my mind was already on my next question. "May I ask you why I was brought here, Aro?" The question sounded a tad too presumptuous once spoken, but Aro didn't seem to mind it.

On the contrary, he smiled gleefully. "Why, to meet you! To observe you, of course. You are the most unique _of the unique_ in your race..."

Reality flashed before my eyes. "There are others...?" I'd never contemplated the existence of _other_ hybrids... perhaps I was too hasty to discount the idea.

"I've only seen two thus far – three including yourself. One male; one female. Though, the female was not like you" – he grinned broadly in satisfaction – "not in the _slightest_."

My mind stumbled over the information. "H-How do you mean?"

"You are venomous." His tone was full of pride, as though he'd made a great accomplishment of some sort. "On normal accounts, females of your race are of _nonvenomous_ origins. Males tend to adapt to their immortal side; females to their mortal. But you are special! I believe it is also why my kind hunts you so..."

I was staggered. "Oh."

"This is no curse, Cornelia," he assured soothingly. "It allows you to be _different_. A wonderful thing, really – quite the anomaly!" He chuckled musingly.

I attempted to combine his words in my head – curse, different, wonderful, and anomaly – with little success. "I am different... Normal hybrids do not –"

"Attract immortals such as I? I'm afraid not..." His nose wrinkled in distaste. "Neither do they take kindly to those _shape shifters_ you adore so fondly."

The term was unfamiliar to me. "Shape... shifters?"

"Those _werewolves _in your country. In reality, they are quite falsely acclaimed. It is the Children of the Moon – disgusting creatures bound to the lunar cycles – that are the true werewolves." His expression took on an arrogant dignity. "Such creatures have been... _dealt with_ long ago."

"Oh..."

"Though I haven't directly encountered them, I'm very curious as to these Native shifters. I would imagine that they are limited to that race due to breeding, though it is very possible –"

Aro's voice became a low drone in the back of my havoc-filled mind. I accepted the werewolf truth with little difficulty... I'd always known the wolves of North America strayed from traditional lore. However, I'd thought that I was completely normal, by my own standards... that I was alone in my own way. The idea of others like myself lead my thoughts to wonder to _who_ they were, _where_ they were. I couldn't decide if I wished to meet them or not...

" – heard a word I've said?"

Aro's affronted tone brought me back from my thoughts. "Of course... uh, _breeding_." I nodded sharply, but he didn't seem convinced.

He sighed, and laced his boney fingers together in his lap. "What more would you ask?"

Without the obscurity of his usual cloak, I could plainly see the white-gold chain around his neck. It hung low on his dark suit, nearly reaching his waist. The medallion was half-obscured by the black material there, but it was obvious that it formed the letter _V_. He noticed where my eyes had traveled, and said, "You've wondered why we of the Volturi act as we do." He tipped his head to catch my glance, and I admonished myself for my rudeness, fixing my eyes on his.

"I have... in the past. I believe I understand now." The concept was strange to me – a large, ancient coven tied together so strongly. They all wore the same golden chains to signify their allegiance. I couldn't picture such loyalty... it seemed almost out-of-place in the world.

I nearly jumped out of my seat when I felt his icy fingers under my chin, tilting my head after my gaze had fallen again. His head cocked to the side as the regarded me, and I realized quite suddenly that my thoughts were open to him through the connection. I sharply pulled away; his talent no doubt unnerved me.

He chuckled heartlessly, and withdrew his hand. "We have other measures, be assured." His eyes flashed with menace. "Such loyalty is not an innate characteristic in many... and falsely believed in few."

His threatening manner made a shiver run up my spine, despite the two frocks I wore.

Jane entered our presence then, and I adjusted to how tiny she looked from my elevated throne. Her eyes glared up at me from under her lashes, refusing to lift her head to me. "Master, Heidi's arrived."

"Ah! That will be our meal." Aro rose from his seat, and offered a hand to assist me. "Dear Cornelia, you may have the day to yourself, however; I would like to begin with your training by the morrow."

He had told me so many puzzling things, I almost accepted this without question. "Training...?"

"Forgive me – I failed to mention it. It is my belief that your gift – your shield – has much potential than you are aware... If you agree, we shall exploit it together."

I felt, once again, that I didn't have a choice to agree or disagree. "Yes, of course."

With a slight bow, he turned away and left with Jane, who shot me a repugnant look. Renata trod past me with a billowing, grey cloak – her presence there had been that of a ghost's. I frowned at the two's cold behavior. _Hybrid discrimination._

Strangely enough, I was left alone in the throne room, standing at the top of the dais steps. Putting two and two together, I speculated that Heidi's previous "business" had been to retrieve "their meal." I scowled at the thought. Felix had told me that Heidi gathered "food" about once a month for the entire Guard.

I slumped back in Marcus' throne, feeling rather depleted. The facts that Aro had given me were astounding – more astounding than all my other experiences there. My thoughts looped and blurred together for several long minutes, trying to put rhyme to the nonsense in my head. _If Edward was here –_

I clutched the arms of the throne when I heard a blood-curdling scream. The sound, though muffled by many stone walls, filled my heart with terror. I _felt_ the death in the air... _so_ much death. My stomach clenched nauseously, and I was grateful to have found the kitchen empty beforehand. Somewhere in the castle, a great slaughter was taking place.

Gasping, I ran from the room. Other cries and sounds rang through the air, but I held myself against them, pushing myself to escape them. Somehow, I ended up at the rear exit – a beautiful archway to the courtyard gardens. Thankful for the fresh air, I took great gulps of it to clear my senses. _Disgusting!_

I became aware of another presence before long. Demetri stood at the edge of the lake, with his hands clasped behind his back. His expressionless gaze was cast over the wind-swept water. I noticed that he was without his cloak, for the very first time I'd seen him. He looked younger in normal clothing, less dark, perhaps. His silky black hair fell loosely with the winter breeze, and his piercing eyes – _Wait! When did he look at me?_

I promptly averted my eyes, but all too late. He had caught me gawking – of this I was certain. "What brings you here?" he asked quietly, _objectively_, and the wind brought his soft words to my ears.

"I..." I caught a cluster of hair from tangling in the breeze when it picked up, and debated whether to leave or not. "I don't wish to hear... Heidi brought –" I was thankful that he seemed to understand, for my next words refused to come.

He nodded, his gaze becoming lost over the lake again. I took residence on the stone bench which he stood beside, and closed my hands in the folds of my skirts. My fingernails were nearly blue from the cold. The dark, murky water mirrored the gloom of the sky, and I felt myself despairing at the dismal scene. Demetri stood there as a statue, and I presumed that he'd been standing there for a long amount of time.

"Aren't you thirsty?" I studied his dark crimson irises for a moment. "Perhaps you should –"

"I fed not long ago," he interrupted crudely.

Recalling his escapade in Lisbon the week before, I frowned. It seemed like much more time had passed, and this fact disheartened me further. _A year seems like a very long time... _"It's strange that I only just arrived here...," I spoke my thoughts idly, joining his spellbound stare across the lake.

"Time is an illusion," Demetri said suddenly. "Something one cannot control."

I pondered his words as the wind brushed my face pink. A year, though seeming unending, was actually a short amount of time in the grand scheme of things. The stench of time may have a great effect upon the future, or perhaps very little. The incidents to follow in my time there could not be predicted; I needed to ready myself for anything. Be prepared for everything... and for nothing.

As I willed the wind to take my troubles, my goal – to once again live life happily, with Jasper – seemed attainable again.

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><p><strong>Ah, Cornelia... just wait to see what the future holds for you. Please review if you have the time.<strong>

**Next time: "Shield Training."**

**-Scarlet**


	39. Chapter 36: Shield Training

**It's December 5th! Happy Birthday, Cornelia! Here's an update for the special day.  
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**Thanks for reviewing, eviltimewaster and ShiningDay! We broke 100,000 words, people. Can you believe it?  
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**Anyway, enjoy this new chapter and beware of typos.**

**-Scarlet**

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><p><strong>Chapter 36: Shield Training<strong>

_January 10th 1932, daybreak_

_Volterra, Italy_

It was the following evening that I learned of my ineptitude for chess. Felix had tried, with little success, to teach me the strategy of the game. Much to the satisfaction of Demetri, I lost time and time again. I left the lounge fully mortified.

Fortunately, through a note passed by Rosemary, Aro authorized me to leave the city to hunt. About thirty miles from town was a nature preserve, where I could find a fine meal. The only stipulation was that one of the Guard accompany me – by my choosing, as luck would have it. Heidi was very little impressed as she witnessed my dinner of gazelle and fox, but did take a liking to my silver dagger. "Pleasantly cliché," she had said, smiling impishly.

So, fully refreshed, I returned to the castle very early in the morning. Heidi was guiding me back to my chambers (I could never find them myself), when we were intercepted by the most unlikely individual...

"Hello, Renata." Heidi seemed unsettled by her presence, which caused an uneasy feeling to creep up on me.

Renata was tall – taller than Heidi, which was a feat – and rose two thick brows down at me. Her dark hair was pinned up tightly, not one piece out of place, and her long, grey cloak concealed her arms from view... which made me wonder exactly –

"What do you want with us, Renata?" Heidi urged, after receiving little or no greeting.

"Aro wishes for me to conduct her training," she replied. "She must come with me."

Heidi must have noticed my discomfort with this, for she said, "I will attend you. Where do you wish to begin?"

The courtyard was flooded with morning sunlight. The fat willows by the pond swayed in the chilly breeze, licking the water with their delicate tendrils. There were several clouds in the sky, high up where they stretched across the blue background in thin wisps. I expressed my concern about the effect the sun had upon our skin (whatever parts were showing, that is), and Renata insisted that we were safe from mortal eyes. Heidi confirmed this with a gentle, reassuring smile.

As Renata began to explain what activities we would be doing, I began to relax. They only wished to push my gift as far as it would go – detect its potential. Yes, I was fine with this idea... until Demetri lurked through the castle arch.

"Good. Now we can begin," Renata said, motioning Demetri to join us.

We glared at each other as he entered the group.

"Now, Cornelia..." I turned my attention back to Renata, who wore such a pompous look that it made a spike a fear fly through me. "Have you ever considered using your ability in combat?"

I nodded. "Of course. That's the only use I've discovered. Defen –"

"Defense, yes. But what about _offense_?" she said, obviously forbearing.

I stared at her. _How could one use a shield as offense? _ I put out my hand, and allowed a white barrier to raise between us. "What offense does this offer?" I nodded to the mist, to demonstrate my point.

She put her shimmering palm against the cool surface of the faint wall that separated us. "Don't think of it as a 'shield.' It's more than that, I think."

Frowning at her words, I dropped my hand and the shield disappeared. "I don't understand."

"Don't you feel something when you created it? As though it's material? Indestructible?"

I didn't know how to answer. Her face was strangely somber for such ridiculous claims. "I..."

She dismissed whatever I'd planned to say with a waggle of her hand. "Create one," she ordered briskly. "A small one."

Confused, I used my best control to make a small shield, hanging midair.

"Now, do you see that?" I nodded as she pointed to a small willow sapling nearby. It had probably been growing there for about five years. "_Slice it._"

I was unsure as to the instructions, but guided the tiny shield to the sapling anyway. It hovered nearby as I debated what to do. _What does she mean? This is silly..._

She sighed sharply, with unnecessary breath, and became even more impatient than before. "You are not thinking dimensionally. With enough discipline, this would be simple."

My temper snapped. "Excuse me! You speak as though you attain my gift, Renata. There are some things that simply cannot be done!" I threw my hands up in aggravation and the mist vanished.

Demetri chuckled narcissistically.

Heidi glanced between Renata and I – we had taken to our own glaring contest – with worried eyes. "Perhaps something simpler –"

"Come here, Demetri," Renata instructed, breaking our connection.

_I do not like her._ My jaw worked as I watched Demetri obey almost immediately. It was obvious that Renata demanded much respect among her peers... perhaps _too_ much.

"How may I assist?" Demetri swept a low bow when he reached her, successfully charming her. I gaped at her beguiled expression in disbelief. _How did he do it?_

She smiled _invitingly at him, and a prickle went down my arms for no reason_. "Stand there." She pointed to the space between us without looking away from him. I began to suspect that Demetri had another gift I didn't know about. "Cornelia, make one _here_," she said, flashing to my side. Her arms were stretched out, as though demonstrating what I should do.

Pushing away some very violent thoughts, I ignored her insolence and set my hands in front of me. Once again, a shield appeared. "Yes, Renata? What _now_?" I couldn't help the tad of irritation that slipped into my tone.

She rose an eyebrow. "Hit Demetri with it," she said simply.

This brightened my spirits substantially. Demetri looked staggered as Renata gave a monotone chuckle. I took a deep breath and focused my mind on the fifty feet that separated Demetri and I, letting my eyes close. I hadn't done something like that in a very long time – I was sorely out of practice. Nevertheless, as I moved my hands forward in a swift movement, I heard the whooshing sound of my shield. It was strangely... amplified. I felt a great drain in energy, as though the shield had taken some with it. A surprised shout caused my eyes to flutter open. Heidi giggled.

Demetri was a full _hundred_ feet away, on his back, glaring at me with uninhibited rage. I pointed at Renata behind her back.

"That was astounding!" Heidi came closer cautiously, as Renata smiled with complacence. "How did you do it?"

I had trouble finding words to describe it. "Well... what did _you_ see happen?"

She gestured with her hands as she spoke. "The whiteness _thrust_ forward with your hands, and spread out – fainter and fainter – until it struck Demetri." She laughed pleasantly. "With force, apparently!"

"_Renata,_" Demetri addressed harshly, marching over in quite a state. "Can she not practice on a bush? Or a tree?"

"Demetri, would you rather _I_ practice on you?"

Heidi encouraged me to try again as they squabbled, just in thin air. I repeated the same procedure, with my eyes open this time. It was just as Heidi had said – it phased forward in fading lines until it dissipated entirely. It all happened so fast... with a blink of the eyes, it was gone. I once again felt my energy quickly dwindling. I quickly found that the thicker the shield – rather, the more focused my ability – the faster and longer it spread. _Perhaps it _is_ an indestructible material after all..._

Renata soon scolded Heidi back into her place on the sidelines, and spared me a curt, "Good work" before resuming our training. We were back to the sapling again... the _evil_ sapling. I tried again and again to maneuver my tiny mist in the correct way, but it all seemed wrong. Once the thought of surrendering passed my mind, a brilliant idea asserted itself.

Acting on thought, the shield then turned sideways, with the narrow end to the thin trunk of the sapling. I make a precise chopping motion with my hand, and the shield followed its path, straight through the trunk. It cut with surprising deadliness, and the tender branches snapped when it fell to the grass.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Aro had been very much correct. My gift held more potential than I'd ever realized.

Before the end of the day, I was flinging razor-sharp shields in every direction – vertically or horizontally, fast or slow. Each action exhausted my stamina, so I had to rest between maneuvers. However, to their credit, Renata, Demetri, and Heidi stayed with me through every hour. When I could no longer stand, we called the training to a halt.

Heidi was called away when we sat down to watch the sunset over the lake, and apologized as she left. Renata had mysteriously disappeared after subtly commending me. It was Demetri and I again, by the lake – he in the very same position with his hands behind his back. I suspected that he came there often, to stand just like that.

"Impressive," he commended softly, as though wishing me not to hear. "I hadn't expected such progress so quickly."

"Neither did _I_," I laughed, too exhausted to remark on his mood-swings. "I don't regret bearing Renata's foul temperament." My eyes drifted shut as I slumped tiredly against the stone bench, and the sinking sun filled my closed lids with vivid orange. Moments passed as the cold winter breeze washed over me, staining my cheeks red with its chill. I longed for the cloud-soft mattress in my chambers... I had slept the night before last just to experience its suppleness.

"Why didn't you see before?"

My eyes popped open at the voice, so suddenly close, and they found Demetri, sitting on the far-end of my bench. I sat up ramrod straight and stomped my lethargy. The question had been uttered in a tone that addressed himself... but it was obviously for me. "Lack of experiment," I replied simply, and then covered an embarrassing yawn with my fingers.

He seemed suddenly repulsed, and drew away at once. "I see."

"I apologize for hitting you," I said, trying to guess what made him mood droop. I stood as well, and reached out to rest a heartening hand on his arm. "If Renata hadn't –"

He scowled deeply, and his cloak rustled when he made a sharp, sinuous movement away. "Do not _touch_ me, half-breed." His tone was acid, and burnt me more than it should have.

I let my hand fall to my side. "I'm sorry...," I whispered expressively, looking down. "I don't wish for you to hate me..."

He glanced back at me with unfeeling eyes. The dying sunbeams danced in ruby and topaz glimmers off the pale skin of his neck. "Don't apologize. There's nothing you can do to help it." A hidden emotion flashed in his eyes. "I despise only your nature itself."

Though the words were seemingly unkind, I felt slightly warmed by them. He'd meant to say: "It's your race I despise – not you in particular." But Demetri was not kind by nature, and neither could he do anything to help it. "Thank you, Demetri." I smiling warmly, and he seemed surprised that I'd taken the gentler meaning over the insult.

There seemed hope for a friendship in that moment.

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><p><strong>Why <em>didn't<em> he see it before?** **And what _exactly_ is he seeing? Throw me a review.  
><strong>

**Next time: "The History Lesson and the Library Lurker."**

**-Scarlet**


	40. Chapter 37: The Lurker and the Lesson

**Thanks for the reviews, eviltimewaster, North I-75, misstwilightprincess, and** **Rhythm15! You're all too kind! Here's a speedy update for your great response. Also thanks for the Fav/Alert, starlessknight123, ****Kitcatx29 and jeasterl****.**

**Another Wikipedia miracle. Lord Macaulay does exist, and there is a line in **_**Horadius**_** about Volterra. He **_**knew**_**, people... he **_**knew**_**.**

**Enjoy this new chapter.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 37: The Library Lurker and the History Lesson<br>**

_March 12th 1932, 2:34am_

_Volterra, Italy_

The library door gave a chilling clatter as I shuffled inside. The enormous room was eerie in the candlelight of the early morning; the tall windows behind the ceiling-high shelves were dark with night, and drops of rain drummed on the glass. Candles hung from the ceiling, the walls, and even sat upon the many tables around the room. Nearly every surface was covered with either red silk or satin, and lush chairs were near the shelves for casual readers.

My footsteps up the nearest staircase were silent – I wore only white slippers and a pale green dress. Goosebumps traveled up my bare arms as my fingers glided across the polished wood of the handrail. Lightning struck in the night; the flash from the windows blinded me momentarily.

Santiago had taken up the task of instructing me in Italian the month before. He had discovered, much to his shock, that I was nigh-incompetent when it came to languages. He had taught me the basics in verb formation, formal address, and sentence structure before giving up on my accent completely. He'd given me "daily reading assignments," and pointed me in the direction of the castle's immense literary collection. The Italian section was plainly marked (next to the Latin and Greek), and it became my fate to stumble through novels and bibliography on a day-to-day basis.

I scaled another level, and weaved through the French section to my destination. I had specially reserved a small corner in which to conduct my learning, and had gathered quite an assortment of books. However, as I slipped through the tall, looming shelves, I found that my table had been cleared thoroughly. My books of personal notes were gone as well. Also, the worst of all, the feather cushion was removed from my chair. _Who did this?_

"Who are you?"

My heart thudded loudly as I whirled around. I hadn't detected the presence, most probably due to the many obstructions in the chamber. The man was average height, with wide eyes that seemed to look beyond me. His hair was as black as night, and was combed nicely to one side. He wore a royal blue lounge suit with no collar, and a white-gold chain disappeared around his neck. I sputtered a reply, ending up with something like "Cornelia here."

"Sorry if those were yours...," he said, entering the small cove and gesturing to the empty table. "I filed them."

"It's no trouble," I assured, waiting for an introduction. When I didn't receive one, I asked, "Who are you, sir?"

His eyes blinked twice as they regarded me, and I suddenly wondered what he was thinking. "These are very good," he said evasively, pulling some folded parchment from his breast pocket. When he held them out for me to take, I recognized them as my notes. "I hope you don't mind my having read them."

I took the papers cautiously. They were mostly notes on Italian classics; my simple opinions, really. I had only penned them to practice my written vocabulary. "I... don't mind at all – thank you." I dipped my head gratefully.

The wind pressed against the windows, making a haunting howl sound through the library. The man spoke so lowly that I nearly couldn't hear him. "I also found this... Perhaps you would enjoy it."

I took the worn, green-faced book that he held out, and scanned the elegant golden script: "_Lays of Ancient Rome, Lord Macaulay._" It was poetry versed in Italian. "Thank you. I would very much like to read this."

"Our tastes are much the same," he commented, smiling slight. Then, as if suddenly remembering, "I am Isaac." He bowed his head in late greeting.

I took the delicate cloth of my skirts between the fingers of my free hand, and curtsied. "It's very good to meet you, Isaac. I'm surprised we haven't met before." It had been a full two months – and then some – since my arrival. It was odd that I hadn't bumped into him somewhere in the castle.

He seemed to hesitate. "I don't... _roam_ the grounds much. If you visit here more often, however, you will surely see me."

I sensed he wished to go, by the way glanced around. I nodded, silently dismissing him. "It was a pleasure, then."

"All mine, Miss Cornelia." Then, he left.

I replayed the conversation in my mind as I took a seat at my usual chair. Heidi had told me little of Isaac, other than his mysterious ability to alter time. She had said he was young, yet his control around me had been impeccable. I made a note to speak about this with Aro, during our next weekly chat.

The book that lay forgotten in my lap then caught my attention. The spine was nearly shred in two, and the edges were scuffed from years past. I opened the book to the title page, and noted the publication date: 1842. This was followed by an index of the contents, and a rather lengthy introduction. I flipped through the poetry until a came to a familiar piece, entitled _Horatius_. I read:

_Then out spake brave Horatius,  
>The Captain of the Gate:<br>"To every man upon this earth  
>Death cometh soon or late.<br>And how can man die better  
>Than facing fearful odds,<br>For the ashes of his fathers,  
>And the temples of his gods?"<em>

As I continued to read through the script-filled pages, the binding suddenly fell open at a split, about mid-way through. The poem _Horatius _continued here:

_From lordly Volaterræ,  
>Where scowls the far-famed hold<br>Piled by the hands of giants  
>For godlike kings of old;<em>

The words startled me. Was this Lord Macaulay more informed than the average mortal? Before I could dwell on this further, something caught my eye. A note – yellow and worn – was shoved into the fold of the damaged binding on that page. I took it up, and unfolded it curiously... it was creased thrice over.

"Cornelia, are you in here? _Cornelia?_"

I started at Heidi's summoning voice, which was muffled by walls of books, and stuffed the note into the fold of my dress. "I am here, Heidi!" I called, taking up the green book and rising from my seat.

Heidi slipped from the same corner that Isaac had, and her eyes took in the situation in one great sweep. "You spoke with Isaac?" she guessed. His scent no doubt lingered.

"Only briefly," I replied, wondering if he could hear us from wherever he now was.

She nodded warily. "Well, then... I take it you couldn't sleep?"

"No, I could not." I'd excused myself the previous evening to rest, yet found that sleep was far from me. "I had hoped some reading would exhaust me." I gestured to the book that I held to my chest.

She nodded again, and I got the feeling that Isaac had acted wrong by speaking with me. "Would you like me to escort you to your room?" she asked politely, obviously trying to garner me from the library.

"Of course. Thank you."

We walked along in silence. The trip from my chambers to the library was a great one; I was thankful to have Heidi to guide me. Before I could speculate about Heidi's wariness of Isaac further, she turned the tables on me. "You seem anxious, Cornelia. Has something happened that I should know about?"

If Aro was my gracious host, then Heidi was my gracious attendant. She stocked my living chambers with things beyond necessity, and always made sure there was a clean water supply in the castle, catering to my mortal half. "Nothing has happened, Heidi." I smiled weakly, trying to show this. When she was unconvinced, I grasped for a sensible reason. "Well... Chelsea was... rather cold to me yesterday."

She didn't look surprised by this information. "Felix told me about that – I apologize. You do understand it may be... frustrating for her." Her expression turned sympathetic.

"Frustrating?" I couldn't think of any wrong that I'd done to her. "How do you mean?"

My confusion perturbed her. "You haven't heard?" I shook my head. "Well, since you'll hear about it eventually... Chelsea's power cannot effect you for some reason," she informed me.

My brow furrowed. "She cannot..." _Why would she have _tried_ to manipulate my ties? _"Why is that?"

Heidi sighed. "I haven't a clue. Neither does Aro, apparently. Marcus cannot sense your relationships either – it's all very strange."

I was puzzled – yet rather thankful – by these facts. We soon reached my chambers, and Heidi accepted my invitation inside. The rain still fell relentlessly, pelting my window with its icy shower. I drew the curtains to keep the chill from entering the room. Fortunately, Heidi had procured a small wood furnace for me; it sat in the corner with a vent into the empty room below.

Heidi and I chatted about castle happenings, how my training was progressing with Renata, and what assignment Double Debauchery had been sent out on. The crackling fire, the lulling rain, and the relaxed atmosphere caused my mind to slip back into lethargy. I hadn't slept for quite a time, and Renata's training the previous day had been unusually strenuous.

Heidi noticed my tiredness. "Is it wonderful?" she suddenly asked.

The unusual question gave me some cognizance. "Is _what_ wonderful?"

She didn't answer right away, but rested her chin on her hands, which were folded on the back of the sofa. Her eyes became wistful as she gazed beyond me, out the watery window. "To sleep – that's a wonderful thing. To dream, perhaps..."

I smiled at her musings. "I dream only my experiences... memories of my own past. I suppose it is pleasant." I sighed softly. "But I often wonder what humans must dream."

Her eyebrows pulled together. "I do quite often as well. My humanity is far lost to me... I'm afraid I can't remember what I must've dreamt." She frowned in discontent.

An apathetic sigh escaped me. Heidi remembered very little of her past – Aro owned her human memories. Her time spent as an immortal blurred the distant memories of her humanity. She was over three hundred years old at the time. She had been born in England, during the reign of Queen Elizabeth. However, her family was persecuted for their Catholicism, and had fled to Spain when she was very young.

Her parents died of strange illnesses they found in the new country, leaving her with no family to look after her. She became an orphan – living off streets in a foreign city with a foreign tongue. Soon after, a clan of Gypsies passed through the town, and took her off with them. They traveled in tents and tattered clothing through the countryside of Europe, earning money in unconventional ways. She knew only that life until she reached the human age of twenty-two.

They made camp a particular night, in the hills outside of the city walls of Volterra. Many of the Gypsies were captured, along with Heidi, and were brought to the castle as a meal. Aro very nearly killed her, but his thirst ceased when he detected the outrageous potential in her memories. He let the venom take her into immortality.

Though he was mistaken about her ability, his faith wasn't entirely misplaced. Her aptitude to charm and attract – no doubt obtained in her Gypsy days – had been amplified after the transformation. Thus, her mandatory duty of "catching" or "fishing" the castle's meals was born.

"It must be strange, I think," Heidi pondered, continuing our conversation. "For many humans don't understand dreams themselves."

I nodded, but my mind in another place. "Heidi?"

"Hmm?"

"I heard... a _rumor_ the other day."

Her eyes lit up, and she focused a curious gaze on me. "Oh?" she chimed. Heidi was the official trafficker of information in the castle. I was considering suggesting a permanent staff position for her efficiency and dedication to the field.

"It was about Felix," I clarified.

Her expression deadpanned, and she dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "Don't listen to the gossip about the two of us, dear." She shook her head disapprovingly. "The way people _talk_."

"Oh, no..." I put my hands up in surrender. "It wasn't about the _two of you_... only Felix."

She seemed disappointed.

I remembered Santiago's stoic face when I queried after something he'd said offhandedly. _"Insulting my Italian is like challenging Felix's experience,"_ he'd said. "It was about... well, his age."

She smiled deviously, and folded her hands gracefully in her lap. "Ah, yes. There's many rumors about that."

I rose my eyebrows, intrigued. "Is that so?"

"Only Demetri and I know the truth..." she trailed off, glancing toward the ceiling for no apparent reason. She paused dramatically before, "He's told me that he is over seven-hundred years old."

I surpassed a gasp, but my face was severely dumbfounded.

She laughed melodiously. "I'll tell you, of course. Your affiliations in the Guard are already in order, I suspect. You must promise to keep quiet, however..."

"I give you my word."

"And I shall take it." She leaned forward excitedly, as though sharing a dark secret. "As you know, Felix and I share a... special relationship. But it wasn't like this for a very long time. When I first arrived here, you see, he was quite a mystery to everybody. In my newborn years, he was assigned to attend me. He hardly ever spoke to me... I became rather wary of him. We shared this estranged relationship for _decades_... But things changed when Demetri joined us."

"In 1802," I recited.

She was staggered. "How –?" she gasped.

Her surprise concerned me. "Demetri told me... several weeks ago."

Her adamant expression faded slightly. "How _peculiar_. I haven't known him to share his past with anyone at all."

My thoughts latched on to this, and I had the sudden determination to unwrap the enigma of Demetri Volturi. However, I pushed the musings aside for the present. "Now, what of Felix?"

Heidi continued happily, "So... Felix took to Demetri right away when he arrived. He began opening up to me, and others – it was like he'd become a new man. We fell in –" she stopped herself quickly with a small sound in her throat. "Became involved."

I pondered this. "What happened to him? Before the Volturi?"

Heidi smiled delightfully and perched her chin on her hands once again. "He was a sailor. He can't be sure as to _when_ he was actually born, as time wasn't marked well at all in those ages... Yet, he believes that it was very early in the 13th century." She laughed at my surprise. "The Feudal Ages were coming to a close by then, you know, with the Crusades for Christendom and everything. He _thinks_ he was born in Portugal, which was 'Lusitania' in those days. He can't be certain, because he traveled a lot.

"He was almost constantly out at sea. He was employed by a rich nobleman to make trips to the Orient, for spices and clothes... and other such specialties. He was good at his work – very _strong_." She winked. "He was very successful, too, and well respected. Soon, he chartered his own ship. He formed a small crew for his vessel, and headed off to sea.

"Those were times of darkness, in which people though the world ended on a cliff in sea. But Felix was daring, brave. He decided to search for... for whatever was to be found."

It seemed surreal that the Felix I knew had lived such a life. "What _did_ he find?"

"Nothing," she said flatly, slapping her hand on the seat between us. "Absolutely _nothing_. In fact, his ship was blown so off course, and navigation was so crude, he ended up at the cape of Africa." She paused. "I don't know if you've heard of the _Tierra del Fuego_..."

My eyebrows met my hairline. "_He sailed through it?_"

"He _tried_," she amended. "But like all explorers of the day, he failed. He ship was torn to pieces by a terrible storm – probably a hurricane. To his knowledge, he lost his whole crew. After abandoning ship, he swam as far as he could until he too tired. He woke up on a beach, far into the night. He climbed a steep cliff to observe where he was, but the whole place was covered with jungle."

_KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK._

I jumped three inches off my seat at the sudden sound, and even Heidi looked a little startled. I apologized, and hopped up from the couch to answer the door. I felt utterly out-of-place as I turned the doorknob, having just taken a journey through the _Tierra del Fuego_. "D-Demetri?" I discreetly adjusted the swoop of my dress, which had slipped down my shoulder from my reclined position. "How can I help?"

His red eyes – cold and unfriendly – swept past me into the room. He had moments of aloofness (like the previous day, when he'd encouraged Renata to press her training), and moments of friendliness (Like the previous week, when he'd recommended that I converse with his peers in Italian for extra practice). Overall, the waters were tremulous between us – I didn't know what to make of him. "Heidi, you're needed," Demetri simply said.

Heidi had risen from the couch, and was now beside me. She nodded formally. "Thank you, Demetri. Give me just a moment."

He left without another word, only a stony glance at me.

Heidi promptly closed the door, and pulled me by the elbow to the couch. "I must leave, but I'll finish for you." We sat down, but her posture was restless. "So, Felix was wandering in the jungles of South Africa, yes? Well – long story short – he fought his way back up the continent of Africa. Not an easy thing for a human to do, mind you, what with _wilderness_ and _natives_ and _disease_. It's a wonder that he made it through alive – all the way up to Carthage, you know. From there, he acquired passage on another ship to return to Europe, but luck still wasn't on his side."

Her words came quick and close; I had trouble tracking them all.

"The ship was bound for Spain, but the captain was corrupt and he didn't pay his crew when he was supposed to. They staged a mutiny right in the middle of the Mediterranean, and made land in the first place they could. Any passengers were hostages, of course, and Felix was caught up in the whole business. They made port on the Italian coast, and held anchor there while negotiations were made with the captain. Felix waited for three whole days, and then escaped alone by night. He ran until he came to a small, human settlement named... Volterra.

"I'm sure you can guess the rest. That was a time when the Guard was a small thing, and Aro wanted more members. Felix was turned... and that's happily ever after." She smiled, and bent forward to swiftly kiss both my cheeks. "I'll see you tonight, then, dear. And don't forget your promise!"

I nodded numbly, and watched her close the door swiftly behind herself.

I slumped back on the couch, feeling more exhausted than before. Images flipped through my head, pictures that Felix didn't seem to fit into. However, my body won out in the end, and I tiredly turned to my side and rested my head on the armrest.

A crinkling paper reminded me of the note in my pocket. Curious once again, I slipped it from my skirts and held it before my face. The parchment was obviously very old, and had been folded for just as long. I feared the pieces would rip as I carefully drew the fold out, but it held quite well. Upon it, faded, aged ink scripted:

_Three over, Two up, 1670_

The hand was elegant – the style of days old. _It must be directions to something... or a passcode of some sort._ The mysterious words echoed in my thoughts after my eyes drifted shut.

For once, Jasper was the farthest thing from my mind... I'd even forgotten to scratch off the day on my tally behind the door...

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><p><strong>What do you think the words could be? How were the backstories on Felix and Heidi? Tell me in a review.<strong>

**Thanks for reading. Warning: Time warp ahead in the next chapter.**

**Next time: "The Investigation."**

**-Scarlet**


	41. Chapter 38: An Investigation of Rosemary

**Hey, everyone. Sorry for the delay... I hope your Saturday morning is going well.**

**Thanks for the reviews, Rhythm15, eviltimewaster, and misstwilightprincess!** **And for the Alert, fanfictionwierdo.**

**Alright, there's some Italian-speaking in this one (and will be in several others). Since Google Translate and I are worst enemies (and **_**you**_** don't feel like scrolling down to translations every time you see nonsense words) I shall simply indicate the language spoken and leave it at that. It will be less painful for the both of us, I assure you.**

**In other news: Come support me on deviantART! I'd love you forever if you would come to mock my work. Tehehe. I've also submitted a "special edition" of Part 1 on dA (doesn't that sound fancy?), in which Carlisle and Cornelia have a happy ending. The link to my account is on my FF profile if you're kind enough to take the time.**

**Blah, blah, blah... can I ever shut up? Please enjoy this chapter.**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 38: An Investigation of Rosemary<br>**

_September 13th 1932, 8:00am_

_Volterra, Italy_

It was September. Summer had passed with such haste that I was barely sorry to see it go. I only left the castle grounds to hunt, which wasn't often. Aro made sure to set everything just so for me – I hadn't need to leave.

The large wooden doors that I watched from around a dark corner opened at precisely eight o'clock in the morning. The dainty figure of Rosemary Colbert then graced the entrance hall, and the whole place was filled with the sugary scent of human. It amazed me that she had the tenacity to come there day after day – to a castle full of vampires – just to do paperwork and run errands. She flipped her elbow-length black hair behind her shoulder as she bent over to file some papers in her desk drawer.

I smirked. She didn't even know I was hiding there.

Regretfully, I had picked up on quite a few evil quirks over my time there. Nearly a year with the Volturi had changed me greatly. I was nearly inseparable from Heidi; we called one another sisters. I was fluent in Italian from Santiago's patient lessons, and Felix had become my comic relief from it all. I often spent early mornings with Isaac in the library, debating philosophy or discussing literature. Renata had continued her instruction of my gift, but she became more satisfied day by day. Chelsea continued to despise me from afar; I could hadn't blame her. I spoke to Corin very rarely (just as rarely as I saw the mistresses of the castle), and was quite staggered when Aro told me of her ability to evoke content in the feelings of others. It was infrequent that I encountered with any other Guard members... I knew I was only tolerated by many.

Demetri was a different story than all this, I'm afraid.

My attention snapped back to the human at the desk when I heard a soft sigh. She had opened her brown brief case, and was discarding some unnecessary documents into the small wastebasket under the desk.

I had developed quite an obsession with the human, you see. It all began when Aro told me the story of how she'd ended up in her situation several weeks ago. He had said that they'd taken her as a secretary two year before, after she had wandered into the walled courtyard. Felix had happened to be jumping from a rather high window at the precise moment, and she witnessed it. They promptly kidnapped her, and gave her a very unpleasant ultimatum. She had chosen wisely, but the decision also sealed her fate.

When I confronted Felix about the situation, he only laughed. "_Heidi was angry with me,_" he had said, smiling. "_It was the only way._" Heidi claimed that Felix had found a quarrel with Demetri, and had seen fit to escape his wrath via window. Santiago had scoffed at their childishness, and insisted that it had been a prudent way to procure a secretary. In all honesty, I didn't have a clue who to believe.

I wasn't keen on including Demetri in my investigation, either.

Rosemary tapped some papers straight and set them on the edge of the desk. My superior vision allowed me to recognize Marcus' precise penmanship etched across the paper. If Aro was the mind of the Volturi, Marcus was the hands. And, of course, Caius was... the boot.

My heart jumped when a cold grasp closed around my elbow. It jerked me back, away from the corner. His eyes were dark and menacing. "_Spying again, half-breed?_" he hissed in Italian, releasing me roughly.

I rubbed my arm were his hand had been. He had introduced a whole myriad of Italian insults now that I could understand them. His unpleasant manner always befuddled me; I was nothing but kind to him. "_Hybrid,_" I growled in usual retaliation.

He ignored me, as always, and sauntered off to the desk. He thanked Rosemary briskly and folded the paper in half as he walked away. I kept my hands from physical aggression as he whooshed by within inches of me. I scowled after him.

"Can I help you, Miss Cornelia?" said an Italian-heavy accent.

I glanced over to see Rosemary, leaned over the desk to get a better look. Her glasses, which she wore only on occasion, slipped to the tip of her nose with her posture. I smiled when she pushed them up with her finger, and collected my skirts, strolling over to the desk. "All is well, Rosemary."

She nodded stiffly and resumed her work. I'd noticed her naturally scared and nervous reaction to most the Guard... myself included. It may be a result of the indifference and formality they showed to her, or simply the instincts between their kinds.

I grasped for words as I watched her pencil work across the page.

I'd never actually carried on a conversation with the mortal; our relationship thus far had been extremely professional. Aro encouraged me to observe various assignments that the Guards attended to (not participating, of course), and most of the paperwork for it all went through Rosemary. Without a doubt, the human thoroughly fascinated me.

"I once owned a bracelet very similar to that," I spoke, pointing to the diamond bracelet on her wrist. I spoke in Italian, as was etiquette for a natural-born such as herself. "I suppose it slipped from my wrist one day..."

I remembered the day particularly clearly, in fact. Carlisle and I had ventured out to hunt one summer day, when soft birdsong rang from the sunlit treetops. I hadn't expected to come across a mountain lion; the jewelry was lost in the struggle. I had been sorrowful for its loss – it had been the first piece of jewelry that he'd given me. It was probably still in the baron region above Hoquiam... buried in the forest.

Rosemary glanced up from her papers, and spared a small smile.

Something struck me then. _How could a lowly secretary afford such finery? _"What are you wages here, Rosemary?" On my tongue, the question sounded more like a demand. I smiled ruefully as her wide eyes traveled over my face.

"Er... 5,000 _lire_?"

My eyes narrowed. "Per calendar?"

"Yes, ma'am." Her eyes fell bashfully.

I knew very well that the work she did was worth well more than ₤5,000. She certainly didn't work in a castle full of vampires – from Monday to Saturday, eight to five in the evening, with a thirty minute lunch break, and no benefits – for that _dirt_. I made a note to speak with Aro about it soon... "And how are your feelings to all this?" I gestured vaguely, obviously referring to the fact that she was in servitude to immortals.

Her voice shook even though her gaze didn't waver. "It's fine, Miss. They treat me well enough."

My eyebrow rose, and so did the urge to take out a pipe and detective hat. "Have you seen the rest of the castle?" I questioned further. "It's magnificent."

Her throat visibly constricted with her hitched breath as her fingernails dug into the eraser on her pencil. "N-Not yet..."

It was obviously a lie. I've gathered enough evidence here. "I'll take my leave now, Rosemary. It was a pleasure speaking with you."

"O-Of course, ma'am. So long."

I mentally chalked up the facts as I meandered from the entrance hall. First, she was underpaid. She didn't mind the low celery or the vampire problem. She had very expensive jewelry with no evident means to explain it. She claimed to have not seen the castle, though I detected human scents in certain corridors. She was continuously nervous, even though she'd been employed there for nearly two years.

_Something is definitely wrong..._

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

"Isaac?" I knocked gently on a bookshelf to capture his attention. His nose was buried in a rather large volume as he leaned against a dusty shelf.

His head turned, as though just noticing me. "Hello, Cornelia." He resumed his novel, rudely ignoring me. We had developed a manners-code all of our own over those months; we had a friendly understanding between us.

"Do you recall the note I showed you several weeks ago? The one I found in _Lays of Ancient Rome_?"

He nodded without looking.

"And you've thought about it?" I prompted. "Like you said you would?"

"_Yes, yes, yes,_" he said smartly, marking his place with the tattered ribbon on the binding of his book. He set it aside, and his wide eyes stared at me excitedly. "It's directions, I'm certain. To something in the castle no doubt. I believe it's –" he stopped suddenly, and dropped his hands to his sides.

"Well?" I demanded expectantly.

He was hesitant; his brow furrowed. "Master... didn't want me to say..."

I was surprised. Aro didn't summon Isaac often... he usually spent his time in the undergrounds or the library. Aro insisted that he needed a "controlled environment" to develop his gift. "Aro has seen you?"

"Last week," he replied, somewhat regretfully. "I'm sorry to keep this from you..."

I shook my head. "Nonsense. I shall decipher it on my own." I smiled warmly.

His face lit up at my manner. "You'll do well, I'm sure of it."

"Thank you, Isaac. I have an investigation to attend to today. Farewell."

"Goodbye, Cornelia." He became lost in his books once again.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

It was half past four in the evening when Rosemary began assembling her things for the day. The hours I'd spent pondering both cases – Rosemary's secret and the mysterious note – had proved fruitless. From my corner once again, I watched the secretary carefully strap her briefcase shut. _Strange... she usually packs her case at ten 'til..._

Her heels clicked over the marble floors as she made her way to the great wooden doors leading out. The street exit, which she used daily, was much closer than the sublevel tunnels. However, the human then did something that she hadn't done in all the three weeks that I surveyed her – she turned right.

I flung myself into the next corridor, making as little noise as possible. My presence was hidden by the shadowed candlelight as Rosemary passed through the same corridor. She glanced warily around, but her eyes were too weak to see me.

I followed her stealthily, as she maneuvered through hall after hall. It was the very same path that I'd traced her dwindling scent across. She followed her own steps around in a circle once, before taking another route.

_As though to avoid leaving a direct trail?_ my mental detective commented.

_We may be following a dead case..._ I nearly chuckled at my inner thoughts – I'd filled the void that Edward's had left with my own mental conversations.

Finally, Rosemary's footsteps slowed along a particularly dim hallway. We had ascended to the fourth floor of the castle – one I rarely frequented. Only empty residential room occupied the space. She stopped, looked left and right; I hid myself before she glanced behind. Since there was no way to observe her without being detected, I was forced to rely on my hearing.

There was a movement of wood against stone, and a dull clunk to the ground. Has she dropped something? There's was silence for a moment, as though it had been by accident. Then I heard a soft clicking sound – like a lock – and the distinct tick of a tumbler shifting into position. Metal hinges moved heavily against each other; then the sound of wood sliding against wood. A shuffle of material told me she was somehow fiddling with her pockets. Then, wood-on-wood again, hinges, and a lock moving into place. Wood clamored _softly_ on stone this time, and she sighed sharply before turning away.

I stayed hidden until she passed, and was several corridors away. Then, I emerged from my corner to investigate. The time on my wristwatch read five 'til four. _If she runs, she's make it out by lockdown._

The hall was like any other – thick carpet down the middle, scarlet tapestries on the walls. A collection of artwork hung strangely out-of-place in the center of the east wall, however. I followed Rosemary's scent there; the paintings ranged from portraits to landscapes, and reached the ceiling with their variety. This must have been the wood and stone sound... she must have dismounted one. Unfortunately, her scent touched multiple pieces, as though she'd known to throw me off her trail.

_Cleaver girl..._

I stared at the paintings (within reasonable reach) for several long moments. Most of them were centuries old, and some even hard-mounted to the wall. I have to choose carefully, otherwise someone will know I was here. There's were two Rembrandts: a self-portrait and a landscape. Three others were by various unknown artists. I recognized another landscape which was that of Volterra; its sepia architecture stood out among others. Spotting the famous _Slave Ship_ by Joseph Turner, I wondered if it was indeed the original. Another was a scene from Venice by B. Belloto. I stepped by all this until I came to A Landscape with a Ruined Castle and a Church. I squinted closely to see the author's signature in the corner: "Jacob van Ruisdael; 1670."

I felt a smile on my face. _Three over, two across, 1670. _Taking the painting carefully by its weathered, wooden frame, I ripped it from the wall just to be met with stone. I gingerly replaced it and frowned. _What else could it –?_

_ You must broaden your thinking to find the answer!_ my mind exclaimed.

I almost snapped my fingers at my own generous. I counted three over to the right from the Ruisdael, and two across to the left and tried to pry the Belloto from the wall with no success. I counted three to the left and two to the right, but the small portrait hid nothing. Finally, with three over right and two across right, I found the prize. I stood on the tips of my toes to ease the Volterra piece from its place, and beamed at the sight of a metal-faced lockbox built into the stone. Immediately, I moved the 10-digit turner from one, to six, to seven, to zero. The fitful clicking of tumblers met my ears. The metal hinges creaked loudly with my haste, and I reached up to take the wooden box from inside.

It was ancient, and the old maple wood was cool in my hands. My fingertips glided across the smooth, carved box – the design was elegant. I recognized the wood-on-wood sound when I slid the loose lid aside, and nearly choked on my own breath when I beheld the contents.

Golden nuggets, precious gems, and various jewels glimmered dully in the box. There was only enough to line the bottom, but its worth was several fortunes. I dared to finger the rough edges of the pure metals, and my hand came along a pointed edge of parchment. Curious, I pulled the note out from under the treasure, and eased the plain wax seal from its adhesive. My face drained of color as I read the text within:

_I, Carlisle Cullen, entrust to you, Aro Volturi, this portion of my worldly riches in accordance with the consensus afore stated. Should any evil befall this partnership, or any ill-will be dealt, I shall conform to the exceptions and procedures afore stated._

_Signed –_

_Carlisle Cullen_

_and_

_Aro Volturi_

The writing was the same as the note before; exempting Aro's elaborately penned signature. I felt my heart harden immediately. _Is this some sort of joke? _My mind began speculating what the "afore stated" could have been referring to. It almost seemed that the document was the conclusion of a large one – a business agreement perhaps.

Heidi's opera-level voice rung through the castle then. "Cornelia! Cornelia, _darling_, where _are_ you?"

I nearly dropped the letter and the box in my surprise. Instead, I crammed them back in the safe and slammed the metal door shut. I threw the painting back on the wall and got as far away as I could before Heidi intercepted me.

"Oh, _dear_," she said hungrily, taking me by the shoulders. Her face was alight with fervor. "I have _quite_ the news."

Heidi's tendency to call people "dear" or "darling" flared up whenever she was overly-happy or overly-worried. Due to her animated expression, it was indeed, the "afore stated."

"Do tell, Heidi," I implored casually, with all the eagerness I could muster.

"You simply won't _believe_ it," she declared, squeezing my arm with her long-nailed fingers.

"If this has regards to Demetri, I shall." Most of the Guard's esteem for their illustrious tracker was overrated – even Heidi's.

She only giggled. "All right, then." She paused deliberately. "Demetri is tracking... a _werewolf_. Isn't it _exciting_? We haven't seen one in _decades_!"

I felt my heart clench. By Caius' order, the Volturi had hunted the Children of the Moon to very near extinction. Aro had mentioned that there were still several in existence... he'd claimed that killing them all would be "a waste" and that he'd convinced Caius to cease his hunts. I felt sorrow for them; they were only humans taken by a damaging curse, much like vampires.

He was probably minding his own business until a blood-sucking assassin was sent after him. "That is exciting...," I murmured indistinctly.

Heidi mistook my actions, and smiled deviously. "Oh, I see..."

Her implying tone shocked me back into the conversation. "Heidi? You see what?"

She clicked her tongue teasingly. "Perhaps autumn infatuation is in the air..."

My eyebrows shot up. "Are you saying –? There is _nothing_ –!" She simply laughed fitfully as I stumbled over my words. My cheeks flushed scarlet. "I do not hold Demetri in any other light than is needed. We're not _friends_ at all, _Heidi_." I became aggravated with her smug demeanor.

"You are smitten, my dear!" she accused merrily. "Your eyes sparkle with it."

I blinked twice and looked away, purposely trying to rid the sparkles from my eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said evenly, keeping my voice expressionless.

"You'll realize your attraction at the last minute" – she stared meaningfully at me – "when it's already too _late_."

* * *

><p><strong>Really, Heidi? She must be joking... What do you think? Review if you have the time, please, and let me know.<strong>

**Next time: "The Box in the Wall."  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**


	42. Chapter 39: Unfinished Business

**Thank you Rhythm15,**** North I-75, fanfictionweirdo, Udumuhv, eviltimewaster, murder-winter-cullen, and BookWormAndProudOfIt for the reviews! I can safely say that that is the most reviews I've received for any chapter thus far. That's awesome! And thanks for the Alert and Faves, Midnight Angel of Sorrow, daisytc921, and Nandi Dilla-Cullen.  
><strong>

**I'm hitting a slump with this story, but I hope it won't last long. Now what's the deal with that box? Find out now.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 39: Unfinished Business<strong>

_October 19th 1932, 9:12am_

_Volterra, Italy_

It was rare that I enjoyed such leisure in my own chambers. This being, the two hours I had spent with Rudyard Kipling's _Kim_ were moments of treasure. I hadn't read the book in quite a few decades, and my new perspective gave me a new lesson from the story. This troubled me though... _Have I changed that much?_

I had successfully hid my secret for weeks. The odds were in my favor – Demetri was away from the castle; Felix was too mopey to chide the truth out of me; and Heidi was busy with her own responsibilities, as well as the ones Demetri had left with her. Aro hadn't felt inclined to see my mind for quite a few months, either. I had been proud to earn his trust, but still kept myself carefully guarded...

I was quickly getting accustomed to the Volturi, and this fact scared me greatly.

A light knock at the door stirred me from my thoughts. I slid from the silk sheets of my bed and set my novel on an end table as I made my way for the door. I knew it was Rosemary immediately – her human scent was particularly unique in the castle.

She shoved an envelope into my hands before I even had a chance to greet her. "It needs your endorsement, ma'am. It's the last of them, _I_ _promise_."

"Another?" I pondered, slipping the bank note from the envelope to read the header. "I'd thought the six before were rather redundant..."

Rosemary and I had... a small understanding. She had used her financial-smarts to secure an global account with Switzerland – the most reliable way to store money in the modern world. Though I'd insisted that she take more, we'd split the wealth of the box between ourselves unevenly. I received ninety present of the estate myself, leaving Rosemary with a healthy ten percent. The raw value of it was enough to sustain me several lifetimes... which was what I invariably planned to do.

"It's the notoriety, ma'am... I'm having trouble with Beatrice's references."

I smirked to myself as I signed the document with the fountain pen that Rosemary had provided. The letters of "Beatrice Farrows" were unfamiliar to my hand, but the signature was presentable nonetheless. "I'm sure it will turn out well in the end, Rosemary. I don't mind in the slightest." I smiled to her as I returned the paper to her anxious grasp.

She nodded forcefully. "O-Of course. I... I can't thank you enough –"

I held up a hand. "You already have. It's only fortunate that I was the one to find you out." Giving her a steady look, "Be sure that you aren't missed today."

Her eyes widened at the warning, no doubt recalling the close encounter with Felix the previous day. "Yes. Until later, then, Miss Cornelia." She tipped her head, turning to leave, having taken my words to heart.

"We'll speak soon," I promised, closing the door softly.

My hand rested on the cool metal of the doorknob for a moment, as my mind drifted again. I'd been more and more distracted as of late... as though something was missing from my thoughts. Due to this, I had preoccupied myself with a myriad of activities. I had mastered Italian, and was writing fluently in French and Spanish. My training with Renata was almost becoming second-nature, as I pushed myself further every week. I'd practically memorized the castle's layout, as well as the tunnel system. I'd even taught myself how to strum the harp...

I flinched slightly when another fist pounded the door, uncharacteristically surprised. Waiting several seconds before accepting the caller, my breath caught when I saw who it was. "Renata –" I cleared my throat, unnerved by her icy, emotionless gaze. "The time eludes me. I'd forgotten that we agreed to meet –"

She silenced me with a droning voice, "Spare me, Cornelia. I've only come to tell you that you..." She seemed to hesitate. "You graduated."

I balked. "G-G-Graduated...?"

"Simply '_graduated'_ will suffice." Her left eyebrow picked up slightly, obviously not quite impressed.

"Oh," I deadpanned. "Why, thank you –"

"Yes, yes... congratulations." She motioned vaguely to nothing in particular. "I'm sure you're very proud of yourself."

"Well, I could never have made the progress if you hadn't –"

"Of course," she interrupted, letting out a strangely contented sigh. "I'll be done with you now, Cornelia..."

She was gone in a matter of seconds. It was only then that I realized the giddy smile that adorned my face. I laughed to myself as I closed the door again. _Renata's never been more cheerful._ Resting my forehead on the smooth oak, I couldn't help but feel slightly put out from the news. My mechanical schedule would no doubt be disrupted.

Something drew me then, to the small drawer in my nightstand. Some personal things were safely inside the pine box, but I pushed these aside for the object of my attention. The note, bearing the enigmic phrase to the location of the hidden box. I gently unfolded the ancient page, and ran my fingers over the faded ink, whose elegant scrip I barely recognized...

_Two up, Three over, 1670_

_Carlisle wrote this._

I promptly smacked my sentimentality back into its place... to the dark corner of my heart. I restrained my fingers from crushing the delicate note and simply let it fall gently back into its place. I clenched my fists tightly; the fingernails dug into my palms. _I still can't forgive him... not until he forgives me._

My eyes, which had closed tightly, snapped open at my own thoughts. _What have I done to deserve forgiveness?_ I raked through my mind for the answer... my true feelings were obviously hiding from me. I hadn't spared much thought to that snowy night in Washington – I blocked the memories with my whole effort. However, in that moment, my mind became strangely affixed on them...

I hadn't realized an entire half-hour had passed until I heard the clock tower chime the hour. I blinked, staggered at the moisture that I found there, and moved automatically to take my red cloak from the stand by the door. Felix had chosen the color for me when Aro called for its creation – he'd said that the only half-mortal in the Guard should be plainly marked. _It's time..._

I wheeled through the corridors swiftly, the long material of my ebony gown whispering on the floor behind me. The long sleeves ended in lace at my wrists, tickling my knuckles with the soft material. It was one of Heidi's favorites for me, and I wore it occasionally only to pacify her.

Felix suddenly intercepted me on my fast-paced trek, and fell into step with me. "In a hurry, are we?"

"I need to speak with Aro," I said briskly, quickening around another corner.

He didn't seem surprised. Most the Guard was accustomed to my frequent audiences with Aro. "Did you hear about Demetri?" he asked aimiably, obviously pleased with something.

He chuckled when my steps lagged. "Y-Yes..." I collected my composure quickly. "Heidi told me a short time ago – it's marvelous."

I glanced sideways at him, just as he rose a speculative brow. "You don't _sound_ very impressed, Cornelia," he accused.

I swallowed thickly. Heidi's "prediction" pertaining to my relationship with Demetri had made me edgy around the topic. "It's _exciting_," I said, forcing enthusiasm into my tone.

A smug grin spread on his face, and he suddenly stopped walking. "Oh, I see..."

I halted and stared at him. Curiously enough, Heidi had had a similar reaction. "You see...?"

He crossed his arms, his charcoal cloak stretching over his broad shoulders. I felt myself shrink, minutely intimidated. "You're quite fond of him, aren't you?" he asked pointedly, his red eyes narrowed at the corners.

"I... I..." My fingers twiddled with the black ribbon holding my hair back. "I don't know what you're referring to," I flustered.

A dark look crossed his eyes. "Perhaps I was mistaken."

I recognized the look immediately, and stuck a scolding finger in his face. "Don't you dare say a thing, Felix!"

His smirk grew; he'd successfully humiliated me. "But there's nothing to say, Cornelia." He pinched my cheek lightly – an action that he'd taken a distinct liking to – and I scowled when the pressure added about ten degrees to my already-flushed skin.

"I hope not..." I trailed off, hoping the conversation had come to a close, and turned to resume my course to the throne room.

Felix turned in the opposite direction, but left me with this over his shoulder: "Of course... the match would be excellent either way."

I walked purposely slow the rest of the way, hoping the heat would leave my cheeks. _ Aro will see anyway... I shouldn't worry myself. _Rosemary waved me in when I entered the entrance hall, with a worried look in her eye. She knew I planned to tell Aro about our exchange, and the fact that neither of us could predict his reaction.

Aro and Caius sat at the thrones –Renata was strangely absent. Aro was reclined in his seat, with his hand open to Caius' fingertips. The later scowled at me as I shuffled forward, causing my steps to slow with hesitation.

"You may come, Cornelia. And brother, would you be so kind?" Aro snatched his hand away and gave Caius an presumptuous look. Without another glance in my direction, Caius left as silently as a shadow across a wall.

I curtsied lowly once I reached the dais, much to Aro's delight. Half-rising, I said softly, "Forgive me, sir – I wish to speak with you straightaway."

He understood immediately, and rose from his throne to meet me at the bottom of the dais steps. He took my chin in his icy grasp and lifted, bringing me back to a standing position. I closed my eyes as and kept as still as stone when I felt him in my mind. Not a moment later, his hand disappeared, and his barking laugh echoed against the high walls.

"A daring treasure hunter, hm?"

The blush that I'd so successfully suppressed then asserted itself in my cheeks. "Well... let me explain... you see..."

"I recall when Carlisle Cullen and I made that contract," he suddenly declared, eyes distant with memory. "It was more in jest, you see. The agreement was that I hold a part of his fortune in exchange for his 'board' here." He chuckled. "I suppose we never returned it."

"Oh..."

"You've done well, Cornelia. I hold the human at no fault, of course. I've been aware of her excursions for quite some time..." His smirk was patronizing.

I nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Aro."

He clasped his hands together contently. "But of course! Your intentions were as pure as snow."

I smiled, feeling slightly less guilty for hiding the truth for so long.

He stepped back, as though getting a better perspective of my next reaction. "Now, child... your thoughts on Demetri..."

My worst dread flared in my stomach and stuck up my throat. "_Yes?_" The word came out as a squeak.

"He's caught the mongrel he was tracking and done away with it... all in just three short week." His tone was proud, as though he'd done the thing himself. "He shall return a hero."

I stomped the intimidation I felt at the words. "Is he... due back shortly?"

He seemed pleased by my interest. "Oh, yes. By tomorrow's late noon, no doubt." He paused slightly, eyes dancing with amusement as they scrutinized me. "Don't let Heidi's predictions unnerve you, dear one. Albeit, the match is simply _sublime_..."

Mortification was clear on my face. _Damn Felix._

He laughed outright, and brushed the locks of hair from my neck as he reached for my shoulder. He walked with me down the carpet once again, guiding me along lightly. "My brother requires me now, so our time has ended once again. Keep this discovery to yourself, if you would – as you have been. Others may not be so... lenient."

We were to the doors by that time, so I bowed in farewell. "Thank you for your kindness, sir."

"It's nothing!" He brushed it aside with a flourish of his hand. "Think of it as a reward for your admirable work with Renata. You're quite the adept." When he smiled and turned away, I took that as my signal to leave.

My relief from the conversation was all-pervasive. _What's done is done... it turned out fine._ My steps were a bit lighter as I passed by Rosemary's desk, and I nearly missed her quiet voice calling me over.

"I have a letter here for you, Miss," she said, smiling kindly.

I expected it to be another bank note, but instead, the white envelope she offered was addressed from a residence. The address, of whose handwriting I didn't recognized, simply read:

_To: Cornelia  
>Castle Volterra<br>Volterra, Italy_

I took it curiously. It was addressed in the same fashion that Jasper's infrequent letters were – in which I had personally instructed him. Frowning in puzzlement, I tore the letter's seal and unfolded the paper that I found inside. My eyes flitted down the unfamiliar scrip, to the bottom, where the sender had signed:

_Signed respectively,  
>Mary Alice Brandon<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Uh-oh. Please review with your thoughts; I'll update as soon as I can.<br>**

**Next time: "Signed Respectfully."  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**


	43. Chapter 40: Signed Respectfully

**How many months has it been? Five? I can't apologize enough. I've been insanely busy with school and family so **_**all **_**my writing has slow down considerably. I'M SORRY!**

**I wrote half of this chapter a few weeks ago and finally finished it today. That said, I'm sorry if the writing is inconsistent.**

**Thank you to everyone that has reviewed and faved while I've been gone – I really appreciate the continued interest in this story! It's my personal favorite so I'm glad you like it too.**

**I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before – forgive me if I have. I found it rather difficult to **_**force**_** Jasper and Edward's paths to cross… so I bent the timeline a little. Here's my version: Peter helps Jasper escape from Maria in 1928 (rather than 1938), and Alice finds him in 1932 (rather than 1948). So, basically, I had Jasper escape ten years earlier, and Alice found him four years after that, instead of ten. Besides, what the heck did Alice do those 20-some-odd years before she found Jasper? Meh.  
><strong>

**Okay, on with the show. I encourage you to read the last chapter again if you've forgotten the line of events. "Part 3" is coming to its conclusion very shortly.**

**-Scarlet  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 40: Signed Respectfully<br>**

_October 19th 1932, 11:30pm_

_Volterra, Italy_

_Dear Cornelia,_

_My name is Mary Alice Brandon. You do not know me, but something has happened in my life that has affected you. I am a vampire, and have a pre-cognitive capability._

_Years ago, I glimpsed a future in which I was with a man whom you are familiar with: Jasper Whitlock. That future has come true. I have gone against Jasper's wishes in writing you this letter, but I know it is for the best. I am truly sorry, but this future is set in stone._

_Please do not be upset with me, as Jasper said you would be. It is simply fate that has made this happen. And who are we to question destiny?_

_Again, I am very sorry this has happened this way. Perhaps one day we can meet face to face and become friends. Please do not be angry._

_Signed respectfully,  
>Mary Alice Brandon<em>

I stood as still as stone. The words in the letter blurred more and more as my reflex to blink faded, along with the blood from my face. I felt no need to draw breath, or otherwise move, so I simply remained there, letter grasped in numb hands. _What... What's the meaning of this? How –?_

After several moments, Rosemary cleared her throat purposefully. "Is there a p-problem, ma'am?" she asked cautiously.

I was convinced that Alec had taken my ability to speak, to feel. I could no longer read the indistinct blotches of ink on the thin parchment, but it wasn't of consequence – the words were already carved into my soul. "Rosemary," I whispered, my voice dead and flat. "When did this arrive?"

"Last evening, ma'am. I... I'd forgotten to deliver it until this morning."

When I let the flimsy paper fall onto her desk, she immediately averted her eyes from its context. Smiling grimly at her action, "No need," I insisted pathetically. My fragile emotional state leaked into my voice. "It's no personal matter, I suspect."

_Yes, this must be some bizarre joke._

She nodded, but kept her eyes away nonetheless. "If you say so..."

My mind raked over the evidence with what small conception I possessed. _Vampire, precognitive ability, Jasper, destiny... "Who are we to question destiny?" _The letter, though quite clear, made little sense to my irrational mind. "Rosemary, how long have I been here?" The question, perhaps, sounded a bit more childish spoken aloud than in my thoughts.

Her face was apprehensive, and her voice was quiet. "Nearly nine and a half months, ma'am."

The information surprised me. Time had seemed to take on a whole new meaning during the several months I'd spent with the Volturi. My memories of the place – which were usually so crisp and clear – were hazy and distant. I tried to comprehend the reason why as my thoughts spiraled towards disaster. _Is it possible that Jasper forgot his promise...?_ I turned away from the human woman, overwhelmed by my emotions. I felt without control of the situation, helpless – something which I thoroughly despised.

My head cocked to the side when I heard voices.

"_Alec! Aro would _never_ approve of allowing this petty vagrant enter the castle –_"

"_But he claims to be expected, sister!_"

The twin's argument echoed from deep within the castle – the tunnel system – but I heard it plainly. I began running as quick as thought, navigating the corridors with easy familiarity. I scowled at the notion. _How has my mind become so polluted in such a short time? I don't belong here, yet..._

Jane's quick eyes snapped to me the second I entered their presence. However, the voice that greeted me was not her own. "Cornelia?"

My body reacted quicker than my mind, and my arms were tightly around him before the situation had completely sunk in. "Edward." My voice was small and scared, but his familiar scent comforted me enough to pull away for a short time. Worry clouded his eyes.

"Cornelia." A smile flashed across his face, but his eyes remained unchanged.

"You've come," I stated dryly, stepping away. My foolish feelings were nearly buried under the buzz of my thoughts. There were too many variables to simply surrender to my emotions. "Why?"

He sobered at the question. "Has Jasper arrived?" he asked hurriedly.

I stepped back and blinked. The name surprised me – I hadn't heard it spoken aloud for quite some time. It had been an anchor and a comfort to me for months... now it seemed cold and distant. What had once been beloved was now unknown, unpredictable. _What have I been thinking all these months? Did I simply forget –?_

"No..." My own voice sucked me back into reality, and I saw Edward's anxious face as my vision focused. "Edward... Edward, what's happened?" I clung to his forearm when I felt gravity pull unusually strong.

He steadied me gently, more concerned than ever. "Are you ill? Cornelia, have they treated you wrongly?"

"No, no, nothing like that..." I put a trembling hand to my forehead, trying to level myself out. Glancing around, I realized we had been plunged into complete darkness – the twins had simply left.

"I'll explain everything once you recover. The situation is... slightly complicated."

Realizing he was nearly carrying my entire frame, I stepped away from him and nodded. My head seemed fine. "I'm anxious to hear it nonetheless, I..." _Where did I leave the letter?_

"No need," Edward insisted when I turned to retrieve the letter. "I helped author it."

As quick as a thunderbolt, an emotion flashed through me, leaving a searing wound in its trail: betrayal. Edward sensed the flood of thoughts that leaked from that wound like blood. He was horrorstruck, and immediately attempted to explain. I held up a hand to stop him; I didn't want to argue with my only true friend. "I'm not myself at the moment, Edward. Perhaps I need..."

"...Some fresh air," he said, finishing my thought.

I smiled. _I've missed that._

The autumn evening was crisp and clear – the stars were plainly visible against the stone faces of Volterrian buildings. The chilly air nipped at the exposed skin of my neck; I drew the red material of my cloak closer. The velvet, ebony gown that Heidi adored so much wasn't practical for cold weather, but it made the stone-like temperatures of the castle bearable. I scolded my thoughts away from the Volturi – more pressing matters demanded my attention.

Edward's presence seemed out-of-place in the ancient city, yet welcome all the same. The suit he wore was grey pinstripe; his necktie must have been lost somewhere along the way. His hair was shorter than last I'd seen him. As we strolled along the cobblestone roads, the silence grew between us. It was pleasant to me... after all that had happened in such a short time. Merely enjoying his company was like relishing a beautiful memory. I suppose that he agreed, for he remained silent for several minutes more.

We had nearly reached the great church,_ Santa Maria Assunta_, by the time I noticed the scents lingering behind us. I immediately halted.

"We're being followed," Edward mumbled, glancing at me for guidance.

"Expected." I sighed. "The walls of Volterra are my prison," I said, realizing and accepting the truth of my statement. _Why have I been so blind?_

Edward smiled despondently. "I see." His expression changed to something more businesslike, and he checked his wristwatch. "Jasper will be here soon – by morning at the latest." He seemed reluctant to say if he'd be arriving _alone_. "I'll try to explain the situation as concisely as possible... I can see we don't have time on our side." His eyes darted to the building across the street where three Guard members waited patiently.

"Yes, please do." I motioned for him to begin, then slipped my icy fingers beneath my cloak.

He took a deep, unnecessary breath – a nervous gesture I recognized. "This all began about two months ago. After you left I reconciled with Carlisle, just as you asked. The three of us have been living in Rochester, New York. Jasper had remained in Washington... or so I thought. He turned up in Rochester two months ago... different." He hesitated. "He hadn't been faithful to our lifestyle."

Edward paused to gage my reaction. I attempted to hide my surprise. "Continue, please."

"Carlisle tried to help him. Jasper's mind was a mess – he barely recognized me. I could tell he'd been living as a feral... I don't know how long."

I bit the inside of my lip, realizing that Jasper's letters had stopped _more_ than two months ago.

"We kept him away from humans for a few weeks, helping him become reaccustomed to animals. He responded better to me than Carlisle, so I spent a lot of time one-on-one with him. We practically _lived _in the forest. But it wasn't enough... he was restless. I tried to remind him of who he was waiting for..." He gestured to me. "He just wouldn't hear it. Cornelia, he was out of his mind."

I nodded bravely, biting my lip a bit harder. "Go on," I said, my voice gruff.

"He didn't want to be there, so I didn't keep him. He ran." Edward shrugged. I could tell he didn't blame himself – it had been Jasper's decision. "He showed up again a full month later. He seemed much more civil this time, controlled. A woman was with him; she introduced herself as –"

I interrupted, "Mary Alice Brandon."

His worried expression returned. "I don't think it had been _his_ decision to seek us out again, but he didn't seem resentful for it. He seemed peaceful. She's a very... interesting individual. I know you'll want to meet her one day, Cornelia..."

I tried to picture her face – a face that would affect Jasper so dramatically. Was she beautiful? Was she sweet and kind? Stern and forceful? Was she young or old? Was she... like me?

"You know the rest. I didn't expect Alice to actually send that letter, you see. I planned to give it to you myself when you returned. I heard about it last week, and came here as soon as I could."

The timeline he presented shook me from my troubled thoughts. "B-But how did you get here so quickly?"

"Airplane."

"Over the ocean...?" My brow furrowed as I gestured with my hand.

He smiled – a genuine smile, the first since I'd seen him – and even chuckled under his breath. "Don't act so surprised, Cornelia. Pan Am has been flying to Canada for years now."

His smile was contagious. "Of course..." A laugh escaped me. "It sounds terrifying!"

He seemed pleased that he could lighten the mood. "It was a new experience, certainly. One that I encourage you to try." He grinned mischievously.

The notion, though thoroughly shaking, wasn't enough to distract me completely. "Why... How is Jasper arriving, then?" I couldn't imagine Jasper's low self-control on a small aircraft filled with humans.

"Boat. We met in Paris, but he chose to travel separately from there."

_He's alone, then..._

"Yes," he answered.

"I see..." I swallowed awkwardly, suddenly feeling rather vulnerable. I wasn't sure if I could keep my composure when Jasper arrived. I felt strangely responsible for the situation... if time hadn't been so lost to me, I would've returned to America by now. These events could have been avoided. This "Alice" could have been avoided. Of course I wouldn't want to sacrifice Jasper's happiness for my own, but... he had been happy _with_ _me_.

"Cornelia?"

The whisper had been so distinct in the silent night air that it startled me. When I looked up, I felt a slender finger sweep across my face as soft and fleeting as a feather. Edward's gaze was more worried than ever.

"I'm fine, Edward," I said, seeing his thoughts for a change. "This all has taken me by surprise, I'm afraid." I forced a smile and tried to collect myself.

As expected, he wasn't convinced. "No one is against you, you know. Even Alice feels that you've been wronged."

_That is not comforting._ "Very well. Will you wait here with me, then?"

He stepped closer and lowered his voice, "Your 'friends' are planning on approaching us soon..."

My eyes shifted for a split second. "No matter. Will you?"

"Of course, Cornelia."

We waited for hours. I was fearful of the sunrise, but Edward assured me that we would retreat indoors when necessary. My nerves got the better of me, though I didn't dare speak it aloud. My hands grew clammy, my mouth dry, and my stomach knotted. Before long, we found a sitting bench below the large fountain in _Palazzo dei Priori_. I wrung my hands and shuffled my feet as Edward tried to distract me with idle conversation.

The three that had followed us – whom I'd identified as Demetri, Felix, and Chelsea by their unique scents – did not reveal themselves the entire time. I was grateful for this: the less I had to worry about the better.

When the clock tower stuck the third hour of the morning, I sighed. "Tell me about where you live now, Edward," I asked, realizing it had been selfish of me to focus the conversation on myself.

"Oh, it's not as exciting as all this...," he chuckled, gesturing around.

I smiled cheekily. "Indulge me."

He drew another nervous breath; my uneasiness must have been wearing off on him. "New York, the 'Empire State.' We live in Rochester, very near Lake Ontario. The hunting ground is my favorite aspect of the place, but beyond that..." He shrugged. "Carlisle works at a local hospital. We 'pretend' to be a family of three – Esme as my sister."

My hand flew to cover my mouth when a snicker escaped me. "Ap-pologies," I giggled.

He gave me a pointed look. "We look alike."

Containing a large grin was difficult; however, I sobered immediately when Edward stood to his feet. I rose with him. "What is it?"

"Jasper. He's here and searching for us."

All my nervous symptoms returned in a flash. I fought dizziness. "Thank you, Edward." I nodded, and he understood my unspoken request for solitude. As I watched him walk across the courtyard, I wondered when the Volturi would descend upon him. I suddenly realized that he would be quite an asset to the Guard... Aro would treasure him like a son if he chose to join their ranks. _No, he would never._

The early morning stars seemed a lot more colder than before. I paced about the cobbled plaza, knowing that Jasper would find me easier in an open area. I fiddled with my hair, pulled at my cloak, and tried to keep my expression neutral. Thoughts buzzed in my head like angry hornets. _Will Jasper be the same as I left him? Or has he forgotten about me? About us—?_

"Cora..."

The word had come from behind, and sounded more like an identification than a greeting. I turned slowly, remembering the promise I'd made to myself. Jasper stood there, under the flickering light of a streetlamp, wearing a rather blank expression. His eyes made my stomach clench – ruby red and completely empty. I wasn't fearful of the color, being quite used to the Volturi's routine diet. Rather, I was surprised. My mind recalled our first encounter in the forest, the time he'd tried to seduce and kill me.

"Jasper," I breathed, my hands reaching out of their own accord. I embraced him without thinking; promise broken. Nuzzling into his scent, "Jasper, I've missed you."

Two hands grasped my shoulders firmly, and roughly pushed me away. I staggered back, more from shock than anything else. My eyes grew wide as I stared up at his empty ones.

My heart broke.

Jasper spoke abruptly, without emotion. "I'm... not quite... myself." His hands were clenched stiffly at his sides. "Without Alice, I..." He blinked uncharacteristically.

The name hit me like a knife to the chest.

I tried to ignore it. _So that's why he didn't want to travel with Edward... he killed a human._

"Without Alice I'm not myself," he repeated.

I nodded rigidly. _Alice... Alice, Alice... _My carefully collected thoughts scattered.

"Cora, something's happened..." I saw something come into his eyes, but I couldn't identify the expression. "I need... to tell you..."

I shook my head, barely able to form a sentence in my mind. "Edward told me," I squeaked, swallowing thickly. _Alice, Alice, Alice..._

"Then, the letter..." The look in his eyes intensified, and his words become more urgent. "You read the letter. So you understand."

I wanted to yell at him. _"I don't 'understand' why you would abandon me!"_ I wanted to scream it in his face. I tried to quell my anger to little avail. "Yes, I understand everything." My tone was accusing.

He frowned. "I didn't mean for _any_ of this to happen, you know," he retorted. "I tried to stop her from sending that letter."

I nearly laughed at the complete disregard that his statement held. _So he would just forget about me without a second thought._ "I suppose 'destiny' had something different in mind, hm?" I snapped. I felt betrayal flare up like a stirred cinder; I'd never known Jasper to believe in fate.

"Yes...," he agreed hesitantly. I identified his expression – confusion. _Confusion about what?_

"Well–!" I flung my hand between us defiantly. _How can he be so nonchalant? _"There's nothing more to be said, is there?"

He paused for a moment, then held out a hand. "I'm sorry, Cora..." The look on his face was helpless. "I... never wanted it to end like this."

The angle of his fingers was for a handshake. I took it cautiously, realizing in that moment that the connection between us was considerably weaker. Memories of our time in Washington flowed through me, up until our very last night together in Boston. I remembered the passion we shared, the love. "H-How did it come to this?" I hadn't meant to speak the question, yet I had. My eyes watered as I stared at our hands.

Jasper didn't say anything for a while, and our joined hands remained unchanged. When he did, he sounded as frustrated as I had been. "I know you're looking for someone to blame, Cornelia. The truth is... well, there's no one to blame. Alice is right – it was fate that brought us together. I trust her completely."

A tear rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away with the back of my hand. _Alice._

He pulled his hand away, perplexed. "Cornelia?"

_He said my full name again._ "Very well," I croaked. _Just accept and adapt,_ _Cornelia, _a voice said.I looked up and inhaled sharply through my nose, consenting to the facts. "I don't blame you, Jasper."

"Good," he said, relieved.

An awkward silence blossomed like an evening primrose. I tried to isolate just one emotion that churned around inside me – anger, despair, loneliness... among others. In the end, a burning self-hatred surfaced. _I'm the one to blame... if I'd only returned sooner..._

"Cornelia!"

I turned at the sound of my name to see Edward rushing our way. I could see he was restraining his urgent pace. _What is it _now_?_

I noticed Chelsea following closely behind. Her expression appeared... guilty?

"Cornelia," Edward sighed when he reached us. His face was grave. "I think I found someone to blame."

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry to start off with a cliffhanger; I plan to have the next chapter up soon. ^_^'<strong>

**Please review so I can see how much of my audience I've lost... *weeps* Even a small review like "Oh, you're back... *glare*" would help me a lot! Thanks for sticking with me!**

**Next time: "The Blame."**

**-Scarlet**


	44. Chapter 41: The Blame

**Thank you for the reviews, Draegan88, **misstwilightprincess, **PlainLittleJane, and eviltimewaster! And for the Faves/Alerts, DreamingHopelessly, XMasterBlackX, and HecatetheDarkWitch. It's great to hear from you!**

**There's another dream sequence from Cornelia's childhood in this one – remember, dreams are in **_**italics**_**. I didn't spend much time proofreading this chapter, so forgive any typos.**

**Please enjoy!**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 41: The Blame<strong>

_October 20th 1932, past midnight  
><em>

_Volterra, Italy_

Jasper was gone when I turned around. _Why did he leave so suddenly?_ Turning my attention back to Edward, "What's amiss?" I asked innocently.

He frowned, staring in the direction in which Jasper had left. "You noticed his strange behavior, didn't you?"

My face flushed when I realized our conversation had been completely exposed to the vampire's sensitive hearing. "Of course –"

"It was _her_." He jerked his head to the side where Chelsea stood with her gaze on the ground. "The act is fresh on her mind."

I squinted at Chelsea for answers. I'd always known her to be hostile toward me, but never in such an open manner. _Besides, she can't use her ability to manipulate me._ "Chelsea...?"

"I'm not accustomed to my actions being known." She glared daggers at Edward. "I was simply performing as I was instructed."

It took me several moments to process her implication. _Heidi told me that Chelsea can't manipulate my relationship ties, nor can Marcus see them. So how...?_

"Can't you _reverse_ it?" Edward demanded, returning her glare with full force.

She scoffed. "Hardly. It's neither your business nor your concern, _scum_."

Their argument became background noise as the situation clicked in my head. It was so obvious... _Chelsea didn't manipulate _my_ relationship with Jasper... she changed _his_ relationship with me._ I felt my heart sink at the notion. It wouldn't have mattered what I said to him – he was a completely different person as far as I was concerned. I was a stranger; a liability to him at this point. The weight of reality pulled my spirit so low that I felt the need to lie down.

But instead of caving to my weakness, my body reacted in an entirely different way. My hands were tightly around Chelsea's neck before I spared it a second thought, dragging her like a limp ragdoll to a nearby alleyway. I smashed her body into the side of a brick building, shattering the mortar like brittle glass. "_Why?_" I growled, glaring up at her surprised expression.

Her feet dangled a foot above the ground as she scratched at my hands. "C-Cornelia...," she squeaked with what little air remained in her dead lungs. My right thumb was crushing her voice box.

The next moment, I felt two powerful grips on my shoulders, yanking me away from Chelsea. A snarl ripped from my throat as my target escaped. I thrashed against Demetri and Felix's restraint, deaf to any words of reason they uttered. White wisps of my natural shield ability flickered through the space around me – my self-control had become unhinged. The razor-sharp fragments could have inflicted heavy damage on my friends had I been focused enough to aim correctly.

I don't remember much thereafter... unconsciousness took a fast hold on me.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

_My latchstring tapped against the tanned leather of my lunchbox with every step I took along the rocky road. The walk from the schoolhouse to Martha's home was nearly three miles, but the flat surface of the wagon trail made the journey tolerable. My shoes crunched the dirt beneath my feet._

_ Crunch, tap, crunch, tap... crunch, tap, crunch, tap..._

_ "Hello, girl."_

_ My young ears hadn't noticed the boy's quick steps behind me until he spoke. The late afternoon sun shone brightly on the pasture we were passing though, so I raised a hand to shield my eyes as I looked over at him. It was Joshua – the son of a farmer that lived a short way from Martha's house. We had attended the same one-room schoolhouse for three years, and used the same road to travel to and fro each day. However, we were hardly acquainted due to my naturally reclusive nature. Even though I was at the physical age of five, I appeared much older; so much so that I was taller than 11-year-old Joshua._

_ "Hello, Joshua." Though I remembered his name, he never remembered mine._

_ "My pa asked if you'd want to help us with the hay bailing next week. I reckon he'll pay you just like us kids." He shrugged, pointing to himself. Joshua had two older brothers and a younger sister._

_ "Ezra and Daniel will be there?" I blushed after the question left my lips. His brother Ezra was the oldest and smartest kid in school. He was also the most handsome and charming. Martha called him a "lady's man."_

_ "My brothers always help pa with the bailing..." He'd said this as though I was stupid for asking. "So, can you or can't you?" he snapped impatiently._

_ I wiped the sweat from my brow, acting as though the sun was to blame for my bright red face. "I can't next week. Martha needs me."_

_ "Well... if you say so." Joshua ran ahead of me, leaving me alone for the rest of my journey._

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

_ "Cornelia, wake up..."_

_ "Can she hear us? Is she awake?"_

_ "No, she's dreaming... maybe if..."_

My eyes snapped open in reaction to the voices around me. I sat up immediately, but quickly put a shaky hand to my head when my body filled with lethargy. A soft buzz sounded in my ears; my skull throbbed with soreness. "Joshua, I can't..."

"Cora, are you alright? Cora?"

My vision finally focused on the face in front of me. "Jas... Jasper?" I frowned in confusion – dreams of my early childhood always filled me with disorientation when I awoke. The room was familiar to me, as was the cashmere couch on which I sat. _My room... Volterra..._

"Perhaps you should lie down, Cornelia." Another face came into focus – Edward's. He stood over me as Jasper knelt by my side.

My fingers twitched on my clammy forehead. "No, I... I'm perfectly fine." Standing was difficult, but I managed well enough. Jasper stood with me, stepping a reasonable distance away. Both men watched me carefully, tensely. I swallowed, feeling rather famished. "What happened?" I asked simply.

They exchanged worried looks, but neither answered directly. "How does you head feel?" Edward asked.

I moved my fingers to probe the back of my head, where the pain originated. I hissed in discomfort when I found the skin tenderer than I'd predicted. "Sore," I replied. An indistinct memory flashed through my mind... someone had hurt me.

Edward frowned. "I'm afraid Demetri was a bit more forceful than necessary."

"Demetri..." My eyes widened in remembrance. "He pushed..." I gently rubbed the spot where my head connected with the building behind me. There was no blood, but I would no doubt have a lump for a few days. "That's why I blacked out."

"You can understand why he did it..." Edward sighed uneasily. "Everything's been sorted out with the building owner... both of them."

I slowly lowered my hands to my sides, clenching them into fists. "He did what was necessary." Another bout of dizziness hit me; my knees wobbled.

"Yes, I did." At the words, my stomach clenched painfully from both surprise and hunger. I hadn't noticed Demetri himself standing inside the open door to my chambers.

Another voice came from behind, but deeper, "You gave us all quite the scare, Cornelia." A stoic Felix stepped into my peripheral vision, arms crossed.

My heart pounded uncomfortably. _They're here to make sure I don't go berserk again._ "I'm sorry," I whispered, knowing everyone in the whole castle would hear me. "There's no excuse for my actions." My head bowed in shame, as did my spirit.

A heavy hand thumped my shoulder amiably. "Don't worry – we forgive you," Felix chided lightly, wearing his usual smile. "Well... I can't exactly speak for Chelsea. And Renata looked a bit more peeved than usual this morning." He laughed good-naturedly, inciting a smile on my face.

"Thank you, Felix." I nodded gratefully to him, then to Demetri. I was met with a stern scowl by the latter. "I'll speak with Chelsea as soon as I'm able." My stomach clenched once again, and I got the feeling that Felix's hand was the only thing keeping me upright.

Demetri stepped forward and motioned for Felix to leave. "Very well. Regain yourself soon, for Aro wishes to speak with the three of you." He nodded formally to us as he followed Felix out the door.

When they had left the immediate corridor, I sank down to the couch and rested my ear on the soft armrest, letting my eyes slip closed. I felt wound up and displeased with myself. It was very, very infrequent that I lost my composure so severely... much less amongst friends. I felt disgraced. "I'm sorry," I repeated, speaking to Edward and Jasper this time. But when I opened my eyes, there was the only one of them in the room.

"Please don't say that," Jasper murmured softly, sitting on the other end of the couch.

I felt even more stressed without Edward in the room. I sat up cautiously and turned my head to see him. His gaze was sorrowful. "Jasper, I need –" I stopped all movement when I felt a flicker of hope in my chest; it felt as though I had reached the end of a long and troublesome journey. I couldn't help the satisfied grin that settled on my face.

"That's how it felt," Jasper whispered, holding my peaceful gaze with one of his own. "That's _exactly _how it felt when I met Alice."

Before I had a chance to respond, a wave of despair slammed into me, stealing my breath. My heart bled with misery, and I forced myself to withhold a whimper. "S-Stop changing my emotions, J-Jasper...," I whined.

"I'm not changing anything, Cora. This is how you naturally feel right now." His jaw tightened, and I knew it was hard for him to bear it as well.

I felt a tear slide from the corner of my eye. "Oh." _He's been sustaining me since I woke up._ I let my face fall into my hands, sniffling pathetically.

The next half-hour passed in a very similar nature. I felt no external interference with my emotional process – I assumed that Jasper wished for me to recover on my own. I couldn't help but feel grateful for that fact. As selfish as I was at the time, I still clung to my independence. During that half-hour time, I judged myself. I judged my behavior the previous evening, my reaction to Jasper's return, and my atrocious actions. I was guilty on all accounts.

_My punishment must come later. For now, I must redeem myself as much as possible._

I stood up, suddenly feeling a steadfast resolve. This new resolve was for something that I'd obviously lacked until that point: strength. The strength to stand alone and survive whatever fate had in store. Whether my life ended in happiness or desolation, I would be strong enough to see it through to the very end. My fate was set – all I could do was walk its clouded path.

"And who are we to question destiny?" I whispered to myself, smiling. It was only then that I noticed the sliver of sunlight escaping the dense material of my sitting room curtains. The sight gave me hope, my _own_ hope this time. I turned to Jasper, who had remained in the same position the entire time. "I'm fine now," I said to him. "Thank you for your patience."

He nodded, smiling with relief. "I'm glad to hear it. You're looking a bit pale, though... maybe you should eat some of that." He motioned to the low book table in front of the couch.

I spotted the silver tray from the kitchen, bearing a small meal, a tea set, and a handkerchief. I slid to the flood, sitting on my knees before the food. Realizing that I was beyond starving, I muttered an apology for my rudeness before plucking three grapes from their green vine.

"You've been through a lot, Cora... and it's all my fault." His despondent tone caused me to glance over at him.

"It's no one's fault, Jasper... I understand that now."

My words didn't console him – he continued to frown.

I sighed and turned back to my meal. _I shouldn't have said those things last night. _I gently lifted the teapot and poured myself a cup. The spoon daintily tapped inside the edges of the cup as I stirred in the sugar. The liquid wasn't quite hot anymore, but satisfying nonetheless. "Tell me about this 'Alice'," I implored, trying to distract him. I began tearing my baguette in half as he recovered from the surprise my question no doubt caused.

"What would you like to know?" he asked evasively.

"Anything." I nibbled on a piece of the soft bread. "She described herself as having a 'pre-cognitive' ability?"

He nodded, clearly concerned about my curiosity. "She found me in Philadelphia because she knew I would be there... waiting for her." He chuckled softly, recalling the memory. "She makes me very happy... I couldn't imagine living without her now. But... I can't describe how torn I was last night, Cora... before..."

"Before Chelsea used her ability...," I finished for him. "Edward must have told you."

"Everything changed," he continued. "It felt like my whole brain had been replaced with someone else's. I saw you, I _felt_ you... but in a different way." He hesitated. "I was so anxious to talk to you, to explain everything – the letter, everything. But when I saw you..."

"Jasper, please... you don't have to..." I pulled myself up to sit next to him. Taking his hand in both of mine, I fixed my eyes to his. "All I ever wanted was your happiness. Even though you've found it in another woman, I can't help but be glad."

He looked hurt by my words, but gradually his hand relaxed in mine. He smiled sincerely. "You helped me as well, Cora. I still value our time together, and I hope you do too."

My heart skipped a beat when he leaned close to my ear. "Thanks for the memories."

He softly kissed my cheek.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

A peaceful, westward breeze washed over me. The air was chilly, but the bright half-moon and stars comforted me. I'd sat on the same stone bench for about an hour, absorbing the essence of the serene night. The castle garden's lake reflected the ornate sky like a rippled picture, a hazy memory. I sighed in harmony with the wind.

Jasper, Edward, and I had appeared before Aro just hours before; he was quickly informed of the entire situation by touching our hands. He'd found it immensely amusing, much to my embarrassment. However, just as I'd predicted, he was taken the most with Edward. Courteous as always, he had extended an invitation for Edward to join the Guard, promising him great rank and fortune. Also in line with my prediction, Edward refused time and again. Nonetheless, this didn't stop Aro from consuming his evening with idle conversation, scrutinizing Edward to no end. I'd politely excused myself to see Jasper off.

Jasper planned to take a boat from Piombino – the nearest port city to Volterra – and find transportation to America from Spain or Portugal. He'd left Volterra just after sundown, cutting short his unplanned trip. I was both sad and relieved to see him go. New lives awaited both of us; what they held in store was unknown. However, I knew that I could now face mine with courage and strength.

As my eyes closed, I let the worries of the day drift away with the wind. I was more content in that moment than I ever had been since meeting Jasper. Because the peace was my own – not put there externally.

I felt two presences enter the garden then – Chelsea and Demetri. I remained motionless; I hadn't spoken to Chelsea since... my outburst. _I wonder what she must think of me now..._

"Chelsea, please don't lurk about." I glanced behind, beckoning the dark figure closer to where I sat.

She approached with her natural grace, but her expression wasn't nearly as arrogant as usual. Instead of an air of superiority about her, there was an aura of humility. She sat next to me and folding her hands neatly in her lap, keeping her eyes down. "I've done you wrong," she finally said, a bit more regretful than I expected. "I've come to apologize."

"No need," I said immediately, casting my gaze back over the lake. "I've already taken my reprisal from you, I suspect." I scowled as I recalled what I'd done to her the night before.

"But you haven't forgiven me," she stated dryly.

"Nor shall I." I smiled when she looked up in surprise. "What is it?"

"You're always such a kind person... I'd anticipated you to pardon my actions straightaway."

I chuckled at the notion. "I'm much more bitter than I appear on the surface." My impolite frankness amazed even me, but the truth could not be denied. I would never truly forgive Chelsea for what she did, just as I couldn't forgive Carlisle. It was a matter far beyond my character.

"Then I can at least tell you the truth, Cornelia." A certain defiance rose in her voice, and I sensed that she was disobeying her master by continuing. "Aro knows you – just as he knows every one of us. He knew you were going to leave with that man, Jasper Whitlock. If I had left your connection untainted, your bond would have undoubtedly pulled you away from us. Aro would be very displeased if that happened –" she stopped abruptly, leaving something unsaid.

_Of course... all went according to Aro's plan. He never intended for me to leave at all._ I nodded gratefully. "Thank you for telling me this, Chelsea."

Her voice was reluctant. "No trouble."

Her "bodyguard" had progressively moved closer throughout the conversation. He was now standing behind the sitting bench, hands folded behind his back. "You shouldn't have said that, Chelsea," Demetri admonished severely. I could practically feel the weight of his glare on my back.

She retorted with a curt Italian phrase, which roughly translates, "You could never understand why." She spared me a patient nod as she stood angrily, retreating from the quiet garden like a shadow. I felt a pang of pity for her; Heidi had told me that she was turned at the age of sixteen, yet so much responsibility was placed on her. Of course, her two and a half centuries of experience as an immortal have shaped her in a way a human life could never have.

I stood as well, taking a moment to smooth out my deep purple dress. I had changed into something light and comfortable after the morning's events. I caught Demetri's eye as I turned to leave. "Welcome back," I said in monotone. "When did you arrive back at the castle?" I recalled his sudden appearance with Felix the night before.

"Yesterday morning," he replied in kind.

I tried not to show interest. _Why hadn't I been informed of his arrival?_ "Well, then... good evening." I stepped past him.

My steps rustled the soft grass as I made my way back to the castle's rear entrance. My gown was much longer than my usual attire – due to its need for tailoring – so I held the cloth above my shoes for a swifter pace. _A nice, warm glass of tea before bed, perhaps... Heidi wished to speak with me as well..._

"Cornelia." Demetri's voice stopped me in my tracks; I half-turned to regard him. "Do you plan to remain with the Volturi? You've more than earned your place among us."

The statement, though spoken with no expression whatsoever, was the warmest thing that Demetri had said to me. I completely turned around, meeting Demetri's inquisitive gaze across the garden. The question startled me, and provoked a new mountain of thoughts for me to sort through. _Is my destiny really with the Volturi?_

"I... I'm not sure quite yet."

* * *

><p><strong>Do you think Cornelia should stay with the Volturi, or go find her own destiny? I have one or two more chapters planned for Part 3, then we're on to Part 4: Time Tension.<strong>

**Thanks for reading!  
><strong>

**Next time: "No More Regrets."  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>


	45. Chapter 42: No More Regrets

**Has it really been two months? Sorry again for the delay! I actually have an excuse this time – my computer got a virus and I moved halfway across the US. But now that I'm settled, updates should come regularly (given I don't hit writer's block along the way).**

**Anyway, thanks for the reviews, ****tedmynameisfred, Udumuhv,** **CeliaSingsSongs****, ****Insanity is my second name, TykiPyon, XxTwistedIvyxX, and bonniebeast****!**** And for the alerts/faves, ****twilightluver3196, Pocket Bug, XxTwistedIvyxX, bonniebeast, and Xxhazydreamxx****. Oh, I guess it's called "following" now... FFn sure is changing. ;D**

**Thanks again for sticking with me. Here's the last chapter of Part 3, which is also dedicated to ****Insanity is my second name**** for her kind support of Cornelia's story.**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><span>In dedication to Insanity is my second name...<span>

**Chapter 42: No More Regrets**

_October 28th 1932, 5:03am_

_Volterra, Italy_

"_C-Cornelia..."_

_I squeezed harder, cutting off her air supply so she couldn't speak. "Why?" I repeated viciously._

_I heard Edward close behind us. "Cornelia, don't do this! It's suicide!"_

_I ignored every word; I was too transfixed on Chelsea's panicked expression. She sputtered like a fish under my grip – not for breath, but for speech. "He's c-correct... if-f you harm me... they'll k-kill –"_

"_No!" I blinked rapidly, disregarding the rational part of my mind that screamed for me to stop. A terrible screech escaped me as something from behind ripped me away from Chelsea. My fingers lashed out, scratching anything in reach, until my hands were restrained as well. "Release me! You must let me... let me..." My voice was not my own; it was filled with rage and hatred._

"_She is drawing human attention," Demetri mumbled._

"_We should take her back to the castle," Felix replied._

"_Let me go, you fools!" I finally broke free of their restriction. However, when I sprang up to search for Chelsea, Demetri blocked my path. "Out of my way," I hissed._

_He wavered for a moment – a very _slight_ moment – before his face hardened once again like stone. "You're creating a spectacle. Stand down and allow us to help you."_

_I gnashed my teeth in anger, knowing I was no match for him in a close-quarters fight. "Idiot!"_

_My dodging tactic failed – Demetri snatched my temples between his slender fingers in one quick maneuver. I gasped at the sudden pain but had little time to react_. If he squeezes any harder, my skull will shatter! _Without further hesitation, he threw me back with little effort, causing me to collide with the brick building behind me._

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

"Ah!"

A sudden collision with the cold ground roused me from sleep immediately. The velvet carpet did little to protect my sore body. Wincing, I dragged myself into an upright position and leaned on the side of the bed. _My head feels even worse today. _With a quiet moan, I wiggled my way back into the warm, silk sheets and let my eyes close once more.

A week had passed in Volterra, during which Edward had convinced me to travel back to America with him. I felt quite certain of my decision, much to the displeasure of my host, Aro. Since the announcement of my imminent departure, most Guard members had become even more accommodating than before. Felix was more jovial than usual, and Heidi spent every free moment chatting the hours away with Edward and me. It was obvious – even to a non-telepathic individual like myself – that Heidi was attempting to woo my companion to stay in Italy. Whether her pursuit of Edward was on a personal level or "just business," I couldn't tell. In any case, I surmised, the match would be dreadful.

I heard the door of my chambers open even with my face buried in a mountain of down-feather pillows. It was Edward no doubt – he'd made a habit of waking me each morning I chose to slumber. I groaned, knowing he would prevent me from dozing off again. "Why do I leave the door unlocked?" I grumbled to myself.

"Hm, good question. Of course, it would not matter either way since..." I heard a minute plop on the pillow beside my ear, and peeked out to see a skeleton key resting on the cloth. "...I have the key."

_Edward would never..._

"Demetri!" I exclaimed in surprise, pulling my bare legs underneath the sheets. Color filled my cheeks, so I turned my face into the pillows again. "Leave immediately!" I demanded, my voice muffled by the cushions. I peered out again after several moments of silence. He was starting down at me, looking quite pleased with himself.

"Heidi sent me with this." He motioned nonchalantly to the teapot sitting on my nightstand. "She's quite busy with... well, business."

I deadpanned. _What's the use? _I sat up slowly, keeping my thin nightdress covered with the crimson bed sheets. "I appreciate the gesture, Demetri, but it's rude to intrude on a lady's chambers." The scent of lightly brewed tea wafted through the room.

He raised an eyebrow, but nodded in consent. "I'll wait in the other room, then."

I slipped out from between the sheets when I knew the door was securely shut. The chilly atmosphere was not welcoming, so I slipped into a satin housecoat before selecting an outfit from the wardrobe. It was the crimson gown I had worn several days before; one of the only comfortable garments in my entire gallery of clothes. The only drawback of the flowing, lacy dress was the ridiculously swooped neckline. I felt a slight pang of regret that I had never organized a proper wardrobe to my liking... Heidi had such liberal taste in clothing.

As I arranged my hair in the vanity mirror, I heard a soft, metallic _click _from the other room. The sound was all-too-familiar: Jasper's silver locket. With a burst of chagrin, I realized that Demetri must be fiddling with the items I'd carelessly left in the sitting room.

"You're originally from this region, are you not?" I suddenly asked, hoping to distract him from his meddling. A conversation through a wall wasn't much different than the ones we usually shared.

"Yes. Florence," was his simple reply.

I reached for the pearl-engraved hairpin that I'd purchased months prior, and twisted my hair into a tight bun. The several, short strands of blond left behind framed my face. I continued, "What is tradition in Italy when saying 'goodbye'?"

His reply didn't come for several moments, during which I stepped into a light pair of loafers. I stole one last peek at my reflection before slipping through the bedroom door. Closing it behind myself, I cleared my throat to get Demetri's attention since his back was turned. As I suspected, he was preying upon some of my treasured belongings.

I fixed a cold glare on his back when he didn't respond. "It's also rude to rummage through my personal affects, Demetri."

He turned around with a slight smirk on his lips; it fell quickly along with his gaze. He took in the whole of my outfit with one swift sweep of his eyes. "My deepest apologies..." His tone was taunting.

I scowled as his eyes finally reached mine, narrowing my glare at his fiendish behavior. "You were saying...?" I prompted, stepping past him to snatch up the silver locket. He withdrew to the entryway of my chambers as I dropped it into my pocket.

"_Arrivederci_," he said casually, motioning for me to follow him.

I shook my head at his misunderstanding, and trailed after him into the corridor. "I don't mean the word, Demetri. I want to know the _custom_ of saying 'goodbye' in Italy," I clarified.

He snickered. "What of it? Most of the Guard are not from Italia themselves."

I ignored his attempts to discourage me. The honest truth was that I hadn't the slightest clue of how to bid my new friends farewell. Anything I thought of seemed either too formal or blandly insincere. I'd had many new experiences during my time with them, many of which I would never have had otherwise. _"Friends"... _I snickered at my own thoughts. _One year ago, I would never have considered myself thinking of them that way._

"Demetri, Cornelia!" Felix's cordial voice greeted us from a short distance.

My spirit lightened considerably as Felix neared us. "Felix, good morning." I dipped a small curtsy; he bowed in return. Demetri remained silent – an uncharacteristic reaction to Felix's arrival.

"Cornelia, you look outstandingly attractive this morning," Felix remarked mischievously, giving Demetri a sideways glance.

My cheeks instantly burned pink at his compliment, which I suspected had been his original goal. I muttered a clumsy "Thank you."

_Obviously, I shouldn't have worn this dress._

"Shall we?" Felix swept his arm with grandeur, still grinning. "We're expected."

"Of course," I said, taking after him with Demetri at my side. He set a brisk pace, which led me to believe that the expectation was urgent. "What of Edward?"

"He's waiting for you to arrive." Felix's booming voice was amplified by the hallway's reverberative affect, but his swift footsteps were near-silent. "Aro wishes for both of you... to speak with," he added hastily.

The double meaning didn't elude me. Aro would no doubt bargain for us to stay once more. The word "no" held little meaning for the ancient vampire – apparently very few dared to use it in his presence. In fact, those who did quickly changed their minds.

When we reached the entrance hall, where Rosemary sat at her usual desk, I sensed at least twenty presences waiting for us behind the golden doors to the throne room. Edward lingered near the human, exchanging what I considered petty conversation. His actions confused me – perhaps because I was unaccustomed to his speaking with mortals.

He wore a quizzical look as he met the three of us halfway across the room. "Good morning, Cornelia. Felix, Demetri." He nodded to them casually.

"Mister Masen," Felix greeted, grinning slyly. I'd yet to discover what it was about Edward which amused Felix so much. He always seemed to be enjoying a good joke when he interacted with Edward. _Perhaps it is because he's still so young._

Edward threw me a small glance and shook his head slightly. I smirked. _No, perhaps not._

Our entrance into the throne room came with little ceremony – the act had become almost routine during my time there. I bit my tounge when I saw Aro, Marcus, _and_ Caius sitting upon their great stone seats, surrounded by a score of their faithful Guards. It was rare that all three brothers came together, meaning that Edward and I would be under much scrutiny that day.

Aro's abrupt, droll laugh caught my attention; Marcus' hand was lightly placed in his. He then turned his piercing gaze on Edward and I, under which we both became unnerved. "My brother tells me," he began, slowly rising from his throne, "that you two have quite an attachment to one another."

I hid my surprise at the statement, knowing very well that Marcus could not sense my emotional ties. _He must have assumed that Edward's bond to me was returned._

"This causes us to believe that if one of you chooses to leave, then so must the other." He paused before adding, "And vice versa."

I nodded in agreement, as did Edward. His implication made me uncomfortable.

"Once again, my dear Cornelia, I beseech you to reconsider our offer." He smiled kindly even though his words held an underlying threat.

I recalled the promise he'd made to me the very first day we met: _"You may favor a new life with us; however, should you not, you are free to go at any time." _The promise had seemed insincere and half-hearted at the time, but at this moment, I clung to it desperately.

To my surprise, Edward spoke for me. "Though Cornelia has enjoyed her time here, and greatly appreciates your generosity, we have decided that returning to America is the best course of action at this time." His tone of voice held a final, almost challenging quality. I felt pride swell in my chest at his confidence.

A smile spread on Aro's face as he gazed at my companion, much like the smile Felix wore around Edward. I realized quite suddenly that Edward would be a much better asset to the Volturi than I would ever be. His telepathic ability had impressed Aro to no end; I could practically feel Aro's desire for him to become a Guard.

For a slight moment, I pictured how the future would be if both of us were to _stay_ in Volterra. I pictured us in charcoal cloaks, kneeling before our three Masters, swearing our undying loyalty to them and their laws. The imagery made me shiver.

"Is he indeed correct?" Aro asked me, causing my thoughts to scatter.

I was about to reply verbally before I noticed his outreached hand. Sealing my lips, I set my hand in his thin, papery one. I tried to relax my nerves as he sifted through my mind, but the sensation was something I would never be used to.

"I see," he said gravely, folding his hands behind his back. "A promise is made to be kept. You may go, child."

I felt immediately relieved. "Thank you, Aro. For everything." I tried to convey my appreciation through a heartfelt smile.

Fortunately, he returned it. "It is my utmost pleasure, of course. I do believe that it won't be too long in the future that we meet again, Cornelia. Until then."

Saying goodbye to everyone was much easier than I'd previously anticipated. Edward's assurance in our decision inspired me. Heidi embraced me tenderly, Felix gave me a hearty handshake, and Chelsea's smile was genuine. Rosemary muttered a final, tearful thanks. Even Renata spared me a sentimental nod.

My leather shoulder-bag and a simple dress were the only items I left with; very similar to my arrival months before. Demetri, Alec, and Jane escorted us through the tunnel systems to a forested area outside of town. Since we were leaving in the early morning sun, we would have to stay in secluded regions during our daytime journey. We tarried at the edge of the forest while Edward and Alec discussed the best route to Paris, from which we could purchase tickets aboard an international plane flight. The thought of flying across the ocean in a small, gasoline-fueled contraption made me nervous, but Edward assured me from experience that it was relatively safe.

_Relatively..._

I watched the sunlight trickle through the treetops, painting the ground with patches of light. The autumn weather was cold and dry, causing me to shiver in the slight breeze. _I've become too accustomed to living indoors._

"Master Aro astonishes me."

Demetri's referring to Aro as "Master" in my presence surprised me a bit. I turned around to face him and gave him a questioning look. He had somehow found a large, shaded patch of grass to stand in, but he wore his dark hood over his eyes regardless.

"Such patience must come from millennia of experience," he clarified.

Demetri's pensive behavior was unusual, but I welcomed the last-minute change. "Patience is also built-in to one's character, I suspect."

He nodded in agreement. "I have little."

I couldn't help but smile. It was the first time that I'd heard him admit a flaw. Noticing the discomfort that the statement caused him, I said, "You've been practicing more patience as of late, Demetri. I noticed a change in your attitude." I bit my tongue after I said this – it sounded like praise to a child.

To my relief, he chuckled. "There is a reason for the change. I was instructed to be more... _courteous_ to you." He grinned when my expression faltered.

My mind flashed back to several weeks ago, just before his manners changed. _"Demetri, a word with you." _Aro must have spoken to him personally about it.

I regretted ever thinking that he'd been acting out of his own goodwill. "Oh..." _Of course... he still hates me._

"Shall we be off?" Edward asked as he flashed to my side, looking suspiciously at Demetri. Sensing this, Demetri retreated a few steps away. I withheld a gasp when a steam of sunlight dashed off his hand as he moved. I'd never seen his skin react to the sun before; considering Demetri as a natural, ordinary vampire seemed impossible.

"Y-Yes," I said, tearing my eyes away from Demetri to gaze at the west. If the weather stayed as pleasant, the trek would no doubt last several days. "I am ready."

"Demetri, it was nice meeting you," Edward said amiably, extending a hand.

Demetri ignored it. "Indeed, Edward."

I nodded to him, satisfied with the simple farewell, and turned my feet to follow Edward's westward guidance. As my feet crunched the dry grass beneath my ankle-high boots, a sudden feeling of regret burst inside me. I stopped abruptly; Edward turned to see what was the matter. _No more regrets._

Acting with little thought, I dashed back to where the three Volturi stood. I snatched up Demetri's hand and shook it purposefully. "_Arrivederci_, Demetri." I smiled at his surprise. _"Auguri_."

"Cornelia." A smile ghosted his lips as he grasped my hand lightly. "Be well."

*~ **END PART 3** ~*

* * *

><p><strong>Translation: "<strong>_**Goodbye**_**, Demetri. **_**All the best**_**."**

**We'll be back in America in Part 4, just a few years later. If you were disappointed how the whole Demetri situation turned out, don't worry! He shall return to a major role at the end of Part 5.**

**How did you like it? Review and tell me?  
><strong>

**Next time: "Part 4: Time Tension, Chapter 43: Chasing Shadows"  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>


	46. Part 4: Time Tension – Table of Contents

*~ **Cornelia: A Tale of Twilight **~*

Part 4: Time Tension

_Table of Contents_

Chapter 43: Chasing Shadows

Chapter 44: The Deadly Shot

Chapter 45: A Set Variable

Chapter 46: The Cullen Coven

Chapter 47: Doctor Party – Part 1

Chapter 48: Doctor Party – Part 2

Chapter 49: Double Vision

Chapter 50: Taken

Chapter 51: The Temptation and the Trick

Chapter 52: Fear No Evil

Chapter 53: In the Dark

Chapter 54: Hunger Pains

Chapter 55: The Future Rewritten

Chapter 56: The End – Part 1

Chapter 57: The End – Part 2

Chapter 58: Never Trust a Romanian

Chapter 59: Wrapped in Dreams

*~**C**~*


	47. Chapter 43: Chasing Shadows

**Thanks for reviewing, bonniebeast, TeamComrade11, North I-75, and Insanity is my second name! I really appreciate you taking the time to do so!**

**This chapter is shorter (not a filler, no no no) since it sets the time frame for Part 4. I hope you like it, and I apologize in advance for any historical inaccuracies.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p>*~ <span>Part 4: Time Tension<span> ~*

**Chapter 43: Chasing Shadows**

_December 7th 1941, 6:00pm_

_Outskirts Detroit, Michigan_

Retrospect is a powerful thing. Without it, we're nothing more than automatons interacting with our environment, never learning from it. In some cases, retrospect can even lead to foresight – an even greater ability.

I, unfortunately, only posses retrospect.

I'll never be quite certain that my decision to leave the Volturi in 1932 was a mistake or a miracle. My reasoning was sound – I didn't wish to become dependent on anyone. If there was one lesson I'd learned from my environment, it was to be independent and self-sufficient at all times. Depending on someone usually becomes a weakness; I despise weaknesses.

In any event, I began chasing shadows upon my return to America. Immediately after our arrival, Edward had encouraged me to accompany him to Rochester, New York; where the Cullen "coven" had settled. I forcefully declined, trying not to imagine the pain that waited there for me. Fortunately, Edward understood perfectly – he promised to visit regularly and kept in contact via the Postal Service.

I began traveling from town to town, state to state, chasing a life I thought I wanted. I sent Edward new addresses frequently, sometimes once a month. I had returned to my homeland wishing for my "old life" back, the life I had known before the Volturi. However, it quickly became apparent that I had forgotten about the foes and fears which that life held for me.

Encounters with werewolves – or "shape-shifters" as the Volturi call them – were few and far between. As my traveling took me farther and farther west, I realized that their numbers were becoming significantly reduced. The Native tribes still told stories of their wolf heritage, but it seemed that the _living_ legends had become extremely rare.

This grieved me greatly; however, the same was true for the number of vampires I encountered. It was uncommon that I should stumble across one; _they_ usually found _me_ due to my unique scent. Moreover, those encounters didn't last long due to my lethal defense training with the Volturi.

The next ten years of my life were the dullest I had ever experienced. My Swiss bank account held the vastness of Carlisle's fortune – enough to sustain a flamboyant lifestyle for several decades. Even so, I rarely withdrew more than I needed just for food and lodging. A simple life of traveling, however dull and mundane it may be, was enough to satisfy me.

I soon learned that satisfaction and happiness are two very different things.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

It was the year 1941, the month of December. I had made my home in a small suburb outside Detroit, Michigan two months prior. The landlord at my apartment building charged $10 a month. It was also the year in which I purchased my first television set – I'd never before been so informed about national and global news. Specifically, the World War that ravaged the European continent. I hadn't yet decided whether America's detachment was praiseworthy or not.

I spent most of my time alone, outdoors, either tracking or hunting. The humans in Detroit disliked outsiders, especially unmarried young women living alone.

One day, after an early sunset, I decided to venture into town. I walked to a dinner that I occasionally visited and ordered a small, hot meal. The name of the dinner escapes my memory, but I recall that the food and service were exemplary. Most specifically, the tea.

The radio behind the counter at which I sat was tuned to a popular comedy act: Bud Abbott and Lou Castillo. However, most the humans in the restaurant enjoyed the shiny, new jukebox in the corner, playing the latest Danny Thomas song. Two businessmen sitting a few seats down from me argued over stock numbers as an elderly couple in the corner discussed the weather. Though the outside temperature was not yet below 32°, snow was forecasted later that week. Black automobiles putted by on the dark, rainy road in front of the dinner.

I sipped my tea and nibbled my potatoes very slowly, enjoying the warm, lively atmosphere. The two-mile walk back to my apartment was sure to be freezing.

"I don't recognize you... Where are you from?"

I set down my teacup and glanced up at the waitress who had addressed me. _Short brown hair, round cheeks, early thirties._ She stated at me with suspicious curiosity, so I smiled to lighten the mood. "From Boston. I moved here two months ago," I said, repeating the story that I told so often.

"Ah." She nodded, taking the washrag from her shoulder to dry a water glass. "Do you get along well in Detroit?"

Her accent eluded to the fact that she was native to the area, so I decided not to criticize. "Pretty well. The city is larger than I'm used to – there's so much to do and see."

She laughed dryly. "A small town girl, eh?"

"You could say that," I laughed, copying her.

She finished drying her glass and picked up another wet one. "Marr-rried?" she asked with a glint in her eye, dragging out the word.

I hesitated a bit; people's reactions to my single status were usually mixed. I smiled sheepishly. "Not yet."

She was mildly surprised, but didn't let it show in her voice. "I know some fellas around town if you're interested. My man works at the bank." She flashed a smile, expecting me to be impressed.

I shook my head. "Thanks, but I'm fine with things the way they are."

She shrugged, and I sensed her interest detach from the conversation. "Ah, well... I can respect that, honey."

I nodded gratefully, and that was the end of it. She walked away to chat up the other customers.

After pouring a fresh cup of tea, I leaned forward on the counter, holding my chin in my hand. _It's not _so_ unusual to be unmarried at my age... It's not as though I'm an old maid already._ I chuckled at my own thoughts, dipping my teabag in and out of the steaming water. _Of course I'm an old maid... an _extremely_ old maid. _

I became lost in the beautiful lyrics of Bing Crosby when Bud and Lou took a music break...

_What bright happiness, what bright happiness,_

_Who can truthfully say – but for every share,_

_With tears we pay…_

_Love is happiness, I've had happiness,_

_Ah, but it ended one day..._

_Now I look at life... a different way._

_When skies are cloudy and gray,_

_They're only gray for a day!_

_So, wrap your troubles in dreams..._

_And dream your troubles away._

_Until that sunshine peeks through,_

_There's only one thing to do…_

_Wrap your troubles in dreams,_

_And dream your troubles away!_

_Say... castles may tumble,_

_That's fate after all!_

_Life's really funny that way…_

_No use to grumble,_

_Smile as they fall!_

_Were you king, for a day…  
><em>

_Say... just remember that sunshine,_

_Always follows the rain!_

_And wrap your troubles in dreams…_

_And dream your tr – _

The song was interrupted by a high-pitched tone over the radio, which caused several humans – including myself – to cover their ears in annoyance. The waitress turned up the volume when a man's voice came over the waves:

"_News flash, America. This morning in Hawaii, the United States Naval fleet was attacked – repeat – the American fleet in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii has been surprise attacked. Thousands dead, 18 ships sunk, including 8 battleships. The President has made this address to Congress –"_

After a moment of static, I recognized the stern voice of Franklin Roosevelt:

"_Today, December 7, 1941, a date which will live in infamy, the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the empire of Japan…"_

Gasps and chattering erupted throughout the dinner. The spokesman's voice returned:

"_Congress had an overwhelming vote for war, and The United States has declared war on the countries of Italy and Germany –"_

The rest of the announcement was drowned out by human voices. One of the businessmen, no longer concerned with stocks, shouted, "About time we did something!" Then, the elder gentleman with his wife scolded him, saying, "But at what cost? All those lives gone forever…" Several young people began sining the national anthem, to which the rest eventually joined in.

I finished my tea amid the chaos and calmly asked a waitress for the check. Unable to get her attention due to the loudness, I simply placed a five-dollar-bill on the counter and hopped down from my stool. Taking my coat and scarf from the hat stand near the door, I slipped out into the wintry night.

* * *

><p><strong>The storyline will kick off in the next chapter. I might update sooner if you review, just sayin'. ;)<br>**

**Thanks for reading. Next time: "The Deadly Shot."  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>


	48. Chapter 44: The Deadly Shot

**Thanks for the reviews, TeamComrade11, Insanity is my second name, misstwilightprincess**, **ShinyVampireApples7**,** Udumuhv, starlessknight123 and XxTwistedIvyxX! And also for the fav and follow, ShinyVampireApples7. You guys are awesome!  
><strong>

**As always, thanks for reading and enjoy this new chapter.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 44: The Deadly Shot<strong>

_December 7th 1941, 7:27pm_

_Detroit, Michigan_

I pulled the collar of my petticoat closer as I walked briskly up the street. The wind blew incessantly, which made me anxious to escape the harsh weather. After about three blocks of misery, I decided that walking home was out of the question.

The news of Pearl Harbor sunk in as I searched for a bus stop. _So much destruction... so much loss._ It filled me with sorrow to think that such a thing was caused by a mere clash of human ideals. America wasn't the direct target of the attack – it was an assault on freedom itself, reaching every corner of the globe. The sacrifices made everywhere to protect this freedom were the most honorable of all. The world would be grateful for their selflessness for all eternity.

_The world is such a harsh place._

I collected my skirt and sat on a cold, metal bench near the bus stop. A human waited there as well – an elderly man reading a newspaper. Crossing my arms tightly, I acknowledged the man's presence with a slight nod of my head.

"Did you hear about the attack on Pearl Harbor?" I asked him, watching my breath vaporize in the cold air.

He peeked out from behind his newspaper, raising one bushy, gray eyebrow. His beady eyes narrowed as he spoke, "The bus was just by. The next one isn't due for half an hour." He rose his newspaper again with a snap of his wrists.

I shook my head in confusion. _Did I speak out of turn?_ "I see," I sighed, rising from my seat. "Good evening."

Feeling disheartened and cold, I resumed my venture home. I'd never completely assimilated into human culture before, but I was always disappointed when my attempts at interaction failed. I usually blamed it on my appearance, my age, or my way of speaking. Throughout the years, I was forced to adapt and change in tangent with the times; 1800's speech was hardly suitable for the 20th century, and so on. At times I didn't even notice that I was different.

It became darker and darker as I neared the edge of town, and my fingers became colder and colder. _No wonder snow is predicted in this week's forecast._ After about half a mile, I finally saw a dim light in a building's window. I quickened my pace, determined to seek the warmth inside. Before I was thirty feet away, the strong scent of alcohol reached my nostrils. _A pub. _I felt disinclined to enter for a moment, but the thought quickly passed along with a cold gust of wind. _I suppose it can't be helped._

The carved sign above the door read "The Deadly Shot"; pictured with a human skeleton sitting at a bar with a shot glass in its hand. I gnashed my teeth against the instincts telling me not to enter, and pulled the heavy wooden door open. A pleased smile spread on my face at the rush of warmth that greeted me, but it quickly turned into a grimace when the smell of cigar smoke and intoxicant surrounded me.

The tables scattered about the room were slick with grease and cheap beer, so I stepped passed them to the semi-clean counter. Taking a barstool fairly close to the dying fireplace, I peered down at the attendant crouched behind the counter, who was rummaging through some liquor cases.

"Hello?" I chanced cautiously.

"Wh-What? Ouch!" I winced when he slammed his head on the wooden bar as he stood up, and apologized when he glared at me irritably. He groaned, muttered something about "damned hangover," and slammed a stained drinking glass in front of me. "What'll it be, lady?"

Shocked by the unusual behavior, I quickly stuttered out my reply: "A-Anything warm, please."

I heard a raspy chuckle from behind, and suddenly realized that I had become the center of attention for all in the room. Two of the eight tables were taken by several rough-looking men, mostly over the age of fifty, who eyed me with casual interest. I gulped uneasily, turning back to the impatient bartender.

"Whiskey'll warm ya from the inside out, beautiful," the man laughed, taking me for the young, innocent girl which I appeared to be.

"Tea will be fine... o-or coffee," I added in response to his amused smirk.

He snatched the glass from the counter and replaced it with an unusually large mug. "Coffee's thirty cents a cup."

I nodded. "Very well."

To this day, I'm not sure if what I payed thirty cents for was actually coffee. The tar-black liquid visibly clung to the sides of the mug, and the sour taste of it effectively turned my stomach. Nevertheless, the warmness improved my condition considerably and banished any drowsiness that remained. I grimaced when I found half an inch of coffee grounds waiting for me at the bottom, but I was quickly distracted by the distinct presence that then entered the pub.

The young man took a seat directly beside me, causing my entire body to react. My heart pounded as adrenaline rushed through my veins, filling every fiber of my being with inhuman energy. I felt the weight of his red-eyed gaze as the bartender lurched over to take his order. My mind screamed at me to warn him about the danger sitting inches to my right.

"That Pearl Harbor business is bringin' every Tom, Dick, and Harry in 'ere. What'll it be, mister?"

"Yes, it's quite a shame," the young man murmured, slicker and smoother than any human voice in existence. "I'm just here for the ambiance," he added.

I turned my head slowly toward him, and immediately found myself locked in the stranger's danger-filled eyes. His head cocked to the side in a curious manner as we exchanged stares. I was frozen; completely at a loss for words. I refused to accept that he intended to attack me in such a public area, yet my fear of that very thing grew with each passing second. _The repercussions would be disastrous. Human exposure, loses, chaos.  
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My heart jumped into my throat when a cold hand grabbed my elbow forcefully. I saw the bloodlust erupt in his eyes as they faded into a dark color; every moment his grip grew tighter. I began to tremble with fear, not only for my own life, but for others as well.

"Stop...," I heard myself whisper. "Not here."

I moved my legs to one side of the stool, intending to place myself in a strategic stance. I would defend myself if necessary, even at the risk of human exposure. _There is no other rational way._ My plan was foiled when the vampire yanked my arm fiercely, causing me to stagger back into my seat. I winced in pain.

His restraint was far too strong for me to break without severely injuring him and myself in the process. His actions, though hostile, were too subtle for any of the human patrons to notice. My mind scrambled for a sound strategy – a way to save myself without harming humans along the way, or displaying my true nature. _If he tries to bite me here, it will be impossible...  
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"_Now_," he growled softly, pulling me closer.

My panic nearly burst into hysteria as his parted lips lowered to my neck. I grabbed his arm with my free hand, prepared to remove his limb if required. "Please, not here," I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa now..."

_The bartender._

My muscles relaxed when I felt the human bartender's pitiful strength push us apart. A look of severe disapproval darkened his face.

Fortunately, my predator had enough sense to play the part and cooperate. "Problem, sir?" he asked innocently.

"We can't have none of _that_ business here, no chance." The human shook his head repeatedly, pointing to the door. "You take that outta here and get yourselves a room, ya hear?"

My façade nearly shattered. I was just about to warn him about the situation before my "lover" interrupted me. "Gladly. I'm sorry to inconvenience you."

To my horror, the stranger latched onto my arm once again, sending a stab of pain up my shoulder, and rushed me to the door as though we were a violently in love couple. The human, no longer concerned, simply returned to his duties without a second thought.

I dug my heels into the floor, trying desperately to weaken his grasp with my unrestrained hand. "What are you doing? Where will you take me?" I babbled senselessly as he dragged me through the door and into the dark street.

He snatched my wrist and successfully immobilized both my hands. He set a frantic run, pulling me along like a ragdoll. "Not far at all –"

A grim voice interrupted him: "Excuse me."

My attacker came to an abrupt halt and forced me behind his back before I had time to react. I tripped on the uneven concrete, but caught myself just before I fell. Shivering from fright and sudden cold, I peered around his broad frame to identify our interceptors.

My jaw unhinged. "Carlisle!"

"The girl is _mine_," the stranger snarled, slipping into an aggressive posture.

Carlisle matched it, and I then noticed Edward standing close behind. Attempting to collect my chaotic thoughts, I stepped away slowly, grateful that the aggressor was now distracted. I considered running, but quickly decided against it. _The situation is delicate; Carlisle will know how to handle it._

"On the contrary," Edward interjected, "Cornelia belongs to no one."

The stranger scoffed; I could tell by his movements that he was considering if the risk to kill me was actually worth it. "Oh, really? And what's it to you?" he challenged, speaking to Carlisle directly. He was quickly identifiable as the leader.

Carlisle ignored the question. "You have two options, Luke. One: leave this city and forget about what happened here. Two: harm one hair on this girl's head and answer directly to the Volturi Guard for your actions. She is under their direct protection."

The intensity in his voice filled me with awe. "H-He is correct," I chimed in, holding my chin high.

This "Luke" visibly balked. "How do you know my name?" he asked shakily, his eyes darting to each one of us. They were filled with paranoia.

"Unimportant," Carlisle stated, standing to his full height. "Please make your decision."

The stranger stood as well, and, with one last worried glance in my direction, darted off down the street. His shrinking form was lost to my vision in the darkness, but I suspected that he wouldn't soon return.

Slowly exhaling, I tried to regain my connection with reality. "How inconceivable," I whispered, gazing down the empty street.

"Are you hurt?" Carlisle appeared by my side, obviously concerned for my wellbeing. "Is your arm injured?" he asked, attempting to inspect it.

I stepped away on sheer instinct. "Why are you here?" I asked, glancing from him to Edward. "How did you find me?"

Edward – who had previously been staring at the pub door, perhaps scanning the patron's minds for wary thoughts – gave me a comforting smile. "You remember what I told you about Alice, right?"

I frowned in confusion. _The seer? _"What does that matter now?"

"She had a vision of this place" – he motioned to the pub – "in which you were attacked. He would've harmed you if we hadn't interfered, Cornelia." His tone was grave.

I nodded in understanding, but couldn't help the spark of defiance that flared up within me. "I could have managed myself, Edward. You know how experienced I am in this area." As I folded my arms across my chest, pain radiated up and down my left arm. The cold hadn't helped my injury at all; I winced in discomfort, trying desperately to keep a straight face.

"Cornelia, let us help you," Carlisle chided, gesturing to my arm. "You could be seriously wounded."

I bit my tongue to keep from arguing back; it was clear that they didn't intend to simply leave me there. I relented with a sigh. "Fine." Glancing around, "I suspect that you came with transportation...?"

"A vehicle. Let's go," Edward said, turning and walking briskly in the opposite direction.

_He seems awfully eager... _"How long was your journey here?" I asked, keeping a reasonable distance from Carlisle.

"Forty minutes," Edward replied.

I was shocked. "So close?"

"I wrote you that we had moved to Dearborn. Didn't you read my last letter?" He glanced over his shoulder as he said this.

Guilt filled me as I pictured the unopened letter sitting at home. "I... I'm sorry. I've been..."

"...Feeling off center lately. I know." He smirked and pulled a set of automobile keys from his pocket. "No need to blame yourself."

_But I do. _Edward was, and still is, one of the very few beings in the universe whom I trusted. I could never forgive myself if I took any moment of his company or attention for granted. _It won't happen again._

I lightly inspected the black Ford car parked along the road. Aside from occasional taxi rides, sitting in an automobile was rare for me. The lack of control unnerved me. Nevertheless, I muttered a grateful reply as Carlisle held the backseat door open for me, and clumsily stepped into the cramped space.

I ignored Carlisle's proximity as he took the seat beside me.

When Edward revved the loud engine to life, I became uneasy. "Edward, have you driven much? Is it safe?" I leaned forward to gage his expression.

Adjusting the small rear-view mirror to see my eyes, he said factually, "I have lots of experience. Just relax and don't worry about a thing."

Feeling slightly satisfied, I sat back and attempted to expel my concern. Unlike airplanes, automobiles had not yet employed the regular use of safety belts. Other than your own weight, there was nothing to keep you stationary in the vehicle. _It's practically a perfectly-designed death trap..._

Edward chuckled as he steered the car towards a main road.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked suddenly.

"To Dearborn. It's not safe for you in Detroit, as you just experienced." He glanced in the mirror again, and I saw genuine concern in his eyes.

"But, my apartment, my belongings..."

"We won't be far from them."

"My neighbors will be concerned if I just disappear, Edward."

"Such disappearances are routine for you, aren't they?"

I sighed, out of excuses, which led to an accidental yawn. The steady vibration of the engine and darkness lulled me. "I guess you're right. I _have_ been feeling off center lately..." I yawned again.

Slouching in tiredness, I leaned toward the car door to rest against it. However, my arm protested the movement by sending a shockwave of pain through my shoulder. I gasped and clutched it, accidentally sharpening the pain. "Ouch," I muttered, bitting my lip to keep from exclaiming.

As though I'd called him by name, Carlisle leaned forward to assist. "May I?" he prompted.

I scowled at his concern. "I'm fine," I said stubbornly, fully aware of my childish attitude. _I don't care, Edward._

Twenty painful minutes passed, during which none of us spoke a word. I stared out the dark window, fighting the pain as well as the lethargy. Both were unbearable.

I sighed for the tenth time that evening, and turned to the man beside me who pretended to be disinterested. "Fix me, Carlisle."

He nodded, unsurprised, and motioned for me to face him in my seat. I positioned myself uncomfortably, allowing him access to my left side. "Where is the pain focused?" he asked, lifting my arm at the elbow.

I sucked in a sharp breath. "Everywhere."

"Can you be more specific?" He eased my arm back down.

"Ah, shoulder!" I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut. "My shoulder."

"Dislocation," he murmured.

My arm had been dislocated before, but not in such recent years. Usually my body would heal itself fairly quickly, but, as I'd noticed with several other body systems, my regenerative ability had become severely stunted. At the time, I was oblivious to the exact reason why.

"Can you fix it?" I asked feebly, meeting his eyes for the first time that evening.

He smiled softly when our gazes met. "It will hurt for a moment."

I didn't speak for the next few seconds, falling into recollection of the last time I'd seen that gaze. We had left each other's company on a bad note – a terrible note – which I had no intention of reliving. For the past decade, the memory of that gaze held nothing but sadness and regret for me. Nonetheless, in those few moments, I felt an old sentimentality spread through me like a warm glass of milk. I felt a genuine contentness that I hadn't known for many years. Many long, lonely years.

My thoughts were distant, far away from the problem at hand. "What?"

"It will hurt," he repeated, growing concerned for my lack of response.

"Mm-hm," I hummed deliriously. My mental state grew progressively more euphoric as sleep beckoned to me.

His eyebrows went together as he placed his fingers below my shoulder and above my elbow. "Very well," he said uncertainly.

Carlisle's quick up-and-in motion, accompanied by the distinct feeling of my bone popping back into its socket, caused pain to erupt like fire through my veins. No other sensation was quite the same, and the surprise which accompanied it only intensified the pain.

I screamed.

The tires screeched on the road when Edward swerved slightly. He cursed under his breath.

"Dear God," I breathed, holding back tears. Irritation prickled up my arm, but not as concentrated as before. I weakly nodded to Carlisle in unspoken thanks, not actually looking at him.

"Try not to move it," he said, removing his dark trench coat. I was surprised to hear material tearing; he fitted my arm with a makeshift sling to immobilize it. I withheld a shiver when he tied the material in a small knot behind my neck. His hands were as cold as ice due to the weather.

Edward glanced back at me as I reclined in my seat, exhausted. "Much better," he said, shifting uncomfortably.

I frowned in response. I'd forgotten that he can feel my physical pain through my mind. _How terrible it must be. _"I'm sorry, Edward," I whispered softly, just before closing my eyes in sleep.

His reply was mere background noise as I faded from consciousness. The last thing I recall is feeling my head fall onto someone's shoulder, and the surprise that followed when it wasn't removed.

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><p><strong>How was it? Was Edward and Carlisle's appearance predictable or unexpected? Review and tell me!<strong>

**Next time: "A Set Variable."  
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**-Scarlet  
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	49. Chapter 45: A Set Variable

**Thanks for the reviews, misstwilightprincess, Insanity is my second name, and XxTwistedIvyxX! And for the fav, RedPenWriter13. I'm glad you all like the turn the story has taken.  
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**This chapter sets everything in motion; I'll warn you in advance that it may be a bit confusing. Just to be clear: there is time travel involved.  
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**-Scarlet  
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><p><strong>Chapter 45: A Set Variable<strong>

_December 8th 1941, 6:00am_

_Dearborn, Michigan_

Dreamless slumbers, which were infrequent for me, usually left me feeling restless. Though my dreams were simple memories, and sometimes unpleasant, they were more comforting than darkness. More familiar than that black abyss of sleep.

Moreover, I awoke feeling very agitated the morning of the eighth. My shoulder was sore, ears filled with the sound of heavy rain, and thoughts erratic. The bed was unfamiliar, as well as the nightclothes in which I found myself. I moaned, grasping my throbbing shoulder as I sat up.

_This must be Dearborn. _The memory of entering the Cullen estate was blurry in my mind, but there nonetheless.

"It's about time you woke up." I flinched at the sound of a feminine voice, filled with irritation. "I don't remember sleeping _that_ much."

I leaped from the bed, searching for the source of the voice. My vision came into focus on a young woman sitting primly in the corner of the room. Her eyes were curious, though slightly judgmental, and as bright and golden as the sun. I'd never seen such a light shade of eyes before – it nearly matched the color of her luxurious hair. Her short, pink dress was the epitome of 40's fashion for women; her full, red lips were pursed together in thought as she scrutinized me.

"Just when I thought things couldn't get any stranger," she continued in a disdainful tone.

_Do I appear strange to her? Does she know who I am? _I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear and rose my chin pridefully. "Just who might you be?" I challenged, matching her manner of speaking.

She smirked in apparent delight. "Rosalie. Rosalie Hale." Rising from her seat, she held out a slim hand in greeting, palm to the ground.

I took her hand in a firm, upright shake; it was like shaking a feather. "I am Cornelia. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

She hummed perceptively as she withdrew. "Likewise. I've heard quite a lot about you, Cornelia."

My expression turned distrustful as I immediately sensed her lie. "Have you?" I pressed inquisitively. _Perhaps she feels as though having knowledge of me would give her an advantage. I don't recall Edward mentioning a "Rosalie" in his letters._

"Oh, yes." She stepped passed me, and opened the top drawer of a small, oak dresser. Taking a light blue blouse from the drawer, "Would this suit you?" she asked, holding it up for me to see.

"I..." Glancing down at my plain nightdress, I felt color fill my cheeks. "Yes. I appreciate your hospitality, Rosalie."

"Don't mention it," she said dismissively. "Alice wanted to be here instead, but Edward insisted" – she cleared her throat, as if breaking that train of thought – "that I should be the one."

My curiosity spiked, but I held my tongue. I took the set of clothes that she offered me, and, after she made no move to leave the room, began undressing myself. "I'm eager to meet Alice, actually." I quickly slipped my arms through the sleeves, avoiding overuse of my left one. "Edward writes of her endlessly."

"Yes, they're quite close," she said distantly, almost bitterly.

I frowned at her attitude, not knowing the cause of it. _I sure have missed out these past few years._

Her head cocked to the side as I buttoned the shin-length, corduroy skirt that she'd selected for me. Moments later, I heard steady footsteps from below; it was then that I realized I was one storey above ground.

"That will be Carlisle. He said he wished to speak with you."

I froze. _Carlisle wants to speak with me... Why?_

She smiled pleasantly, and pointed to a pair of shoes by the mirror standing in the corner. "Those might be a bit large for you, but you're welcome to borrow them if you wish."

I stood upright and attempted to straighten my tangled hair. "O-Oh, well, thank you again."

"My pleasure," she chimed with a voice like song, stepping toward the door. "I look forward to getting to know you, Cornelia."

I smiled as well. Though she seemed abrasive at first, her confidence impressed me. "As I you, Rosalie."

When she opened the door to leave, Carlisle stood there with his hand raised to knock. He quickly folded his hands behind his back. "Rosalie," he said with a nod. His expression was tense and uneasy.

"I should help Esme outside...," Rosalie trailed off, glancing between the two of us. She left without another word.

I turned away as Carlisle closed the door behind her. I noticed a small, wooden clock on the dresser; it read 6:20 in the morning. The floor carpet felt soft beneath my bare feet; my footsteps were near silent as I crossed the room to a nearby window. Wishing to bring more illumination to the small room, I pulled back the dark curtains. The rain wasn't as heavy as before, but a drizzle remained. The gray sky descended into a large field of grass, dry and dead from the cold winter.

"Carlisle, what did you wish to say to me?" I asked absently, not troubling myself to turn toward him. My gaze became lost in the rain as the silence stretched.

My name was the first word out of his mouth; it was struggled and unlike his usual confidence. I shook my head dismally, knowing that a difficult conversation was at hand. "Carlisle –"

His lips sealed to mine before another word could be spoken. My entire self froze as though I had been doused in cold water. All feeling slowly trickled from my body as I realized what was happening; what I was _allowing _to happen. His kiss was urging, passionate, and aggressive – it took every ounce of air from my lungs and every thought from my mind. My hands dangled limply at my sides as he gripped my waist tightly, pulling our bodies closer. Closer, warmer, deeper.

_Wrong, wrong, wrong._

My hands crept slowly up his arms as our breath became one.

_No, no, no._

They finally reached his chest, where I laid them flat against his stony skin.

_Stop, stop, stop!_

I pushed him away with all the force I could muster. He staggered back, surprised by the sudden reaction. Embarrassed, stunned, ashamed – I gaped openly at his undefinable expression.

"How _dare_ you!" I screamed for the entire estate to hear. My hands clenched into fists, shame transforming into anger and hatred. "Just when I was beginning to finally accept – !" I grasped for words, but my mind refused to give them. I flung my hand at him angrily, my face contorted with rage. "Damn you, Carlisle Cullen!"

A sob ripped through me, leaving a bleeding sore in my chest. I covered my mouth and turned away, tears threatening to overtake me. The emotional surge had already done its damage; I felt broken.

There was a pause – a long pause – during which I felt more helpless and lost than I had ever before. "Cornelia," he finally said, "I'm sorry."

"NO," I roared, whirling on him furiously. "I'm through with your _apologies_! I'm through with your _regret_! Why..." I shook my head against the building tears. "Why can't we just be _happy_?"

_...6:10 AM..._

"I'm eager to meet Alice, actually," I said, buttoning my blue shirt. "Edward writes..." I left my sentence unfinished, feeling suddenly disoriented.

"Yes..." Rosalie caught my eye, and we exchanged a silent moment of bewilderment. "They're quite close," she finished uncertainly.

I frowned, having lost my train of thought. The situation seemed wrong somehow. "You know, perhaps Edward _did_ write of you as well. You seem familiar."

She nodded slowly, appearing just as lost in the situation as I. "All good things, I hope," she said, laughing politely. "I look forward to getting to know you, too."

A soft knock at the door startled the both of us, and Rosalie quickly moved to answer it. Strangely enough, my gaze traveled to a brown pair of women's shoes oddly placed near a full-length mirror. The sudden distraction, though completely unprovoked, seemed almost... natural.

Carlisle appeared inside the door, and Rosalie quickly took her leave. As he closed the door behind her, I gaged his worried demeanor carefully.

"You wished to speak with me?" I asked quietly, recalling that Rosalie had said something along those lines. A sudden, ominous feeling seeped into me as he stepped closer.

"I did," he said cautiously, frowning in thought. "Some recent thoughts have been troubling me, Cornelia."

"I see." I nodded gravely, bracing myself for the unavoidable conversation at hand. "There's no need to avoid..."

Words were suddenly lost to me when I felt a cool hand cradle my cheek, pulling my gaze from the carpeted floor. Our eyes locked together, hazel meeting gold; I was pulled back to a time where such a gesture was natural between us. My eyes grew wide as his head dipped to capture my lips with his, sealing any final protest. All feeling slowly trickled from my body as I realized what was happening, just before my rational mind burst forth in objection.

I stepped away, breaking our small connection as easily as it was created. My embarrassment was swept away in a tidal wave of utter animosity.

"How _dare_ you!" I spat in outrage, pointing accusingly. "Just when I was beginning to finally –"

_...5:00 AM..._

Dreamless slumbers, which were infrequent for me, usually left me feeling restless. Though my dreams were simple memories, and sometimes unpleasant, they were more comforting than darkness. More familiar than that black abyss of sleep.

However, the imagery which lingered in my mind that morning was distant and confusing; it was like a forgotten memory. I couldn't recall having dreamt or not, but the strange imagery suggested that I had. Sitting up in an unfamiliar bed, I looked to the curtained window in the small, foreign room. Rain beat against the windowpane with a vengeance, completely filling my ears with the sound.

Then, a whisper: "Psst! You're awake!"

I leaped from the bed, startled, and prepared myself as I searched for the source of the voice. A dark-clad figure stood on the opposite side of the room, apparently surprised by my reaction. I slowly exhaled as recognition struck me. "Issac...?"

His burgundy eyes, which were always wide with alertness, lit up when he heard his own name. "Yes, yes! I'm relieved to speak with you, Miss Cornelia. However, our time is short."

He began pacing the length of the room, barely making a sound as he went. Our hours spent together in Volterra's extensive library made me familiar with his nervous tendencies. I watched him carefully, detecting a strange element in his movements. Though usually quick and skittish, his steps across the room were steady and businesslike. I looked closer, trying to decipher the change with little success.

_Something is wrong... terribly wrong. _"I don't understand. Why are you here?" I asked him.

"Need to leave soon. No time to explain. You will know soon enough. We have a problem at hand. Perhaps a set variable, perhaps something to fix. Don't know; need to think." He continued pacing, mumbling to himself in a similar, abrupt manner.

_"__Set variable"? _I rubbed my forehead, completely lost, and looked down at my attire – a nightdress that I didn't remember putting on. The memory of entering the Cullen estate was blurry in my mind, but there nonetheless. I speculated how the Volturi could possibly be involved with the situation; I hadn't heard a word from them in the past nine years.

However, I withheld the hundred-or-so questions wanting to burst out of me, acknowledging the delicacy of the situation. It was obviously an emergency, though I hadn't the slightest idea what sort. Walking bare-footed across the carpeted room, I reached for a dark curtain covering the window from sight.

"No, no, no, they'll see you!" Isaac exclaimed under his breath, springing over to seal the curtains before I had opened them completely.

I quickly stepped away. "The Cullens...?"

He nodded sharply. "We shouldn't change the fact that they assume you to be asleep. _Change little_," he added hastily, as though repeating something he had been told.

"Isaac," I murmured, tilting my head to the side. "Something about you has changed... What is it?"

He rose a hand to dismiss the question, but paused before doing so. He addressed me in English, though he'd spoken in Italian before, "Miss Cornelia, the situation prevents me from giving you full knowledge of my reason for being here. However... I feel pressed to inform you of the imminent danger that lies ahead for you... for the world as we know it."

My eyebrows knit together; it was the first English I'd ever heard from him. "What?"

"I have been sent to evade that danger," he continued, resuming his gait about the room. "But I am having difficulty changing these" – he gestured to me, then to the door of the small room – "these _set variables_. It seems that there is little I can do to prevent them."

I shook my head in bewilderment. None of his explanation made any sense to me. "Isaac, what danger is waiting for me? What can I do to help?"

He froze in his spot, turning on me as though I'd just said something horrifying. "Too much. I've said too much." He exhaled crossly, frowning to himself. "I'll set you back again, just once more. Then onto the next variable."

In a sudden moment of epiphany, I realized what was so different about him. He appeared and behaved much older than I'd last seen him... _Older than he should be._ A memory of Heidi's fluttering voice struck me: _"...And Isaac can travel through time..."  
><em>

My frustration reached its peak. "Isaac Volturi, I demand that you tell me –"

_...6:10 AM..._

"Alice wanted to be here instead, but Edward insisted that I should be the one."

My movements froze when I heard this; my eyes were focused on the beautiful, young woman before me who offered a set of clothes. I took them hesitantly, feeling distraught. "Alice?" I repeated the name, sorting through my cluttered thoughts for anything relevant. "Edward writes of her endlessly."

The woman, Rosalie Hale as I recalled, nodded slowly. She appeared as distracted as I. "They're quite close," she muttered, turning away.

I took the opportunity to slip out of my nightdress and quickly dress myself. Glancing about the room, I suddenly felt a surge of _déjà vu_. The curtained window, the mirror in the corner, and even some accessories near the dresser seemed very familiar to me. However, the strange feeling passed when Rosalie noisily opened the door.

"I've just remembered, Cornelia, I'm needed elsewhere." She smiled at me patiently, but the urgency in her actions portrayed otherwise. "Carlisle should be along soon."

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving me alone in the small room. I finished fastening the small buttons of the borrowed blouse, and stepped slowly toward the window. Oddly enough, I felt hesitant about drawing back the curtains, as though it was unwise to do so. I dismissed the irrational fear and gazed at the dimly-lit horizon, which was obscured by low rainclouds. The drizzling rain comforted me during the several, silent minutes that followed.

My ears perked up at the sound of footsteps, whose owner I quickly identified. A soft knock followed shortly after. "Come in," I said in reply. His familiar presence invaded the room like an unwanted memory; I sighed in acknowledgement of the difficult, unavoidable conversation at hand. We've put this off for far too long.

"Good morning, Cornelia," he said pleasantly, though the tone was forced.

I turned and greeted him with a small nod. "Carlisle."

His brow was furrowed, hands clasped behind his back tightly – obvious signs of distress. I felt mild surprise that he let these things show so blatantly; he usual composure was entirely gone. My eyes narrowed as I tried to see his thoughts. "You have some questions, no doubt," he eventually stated.

This response was unexpected, so I simply asked the first question that came to mind. "How long have you lived here in Dearborn? You were still living in Hoquiam the last I heard."

The jealousy I felt when Edward wrote me about their life in Washington flared up again. The town of Hoquiam had held a special meaning to me – it had been my home. _Our_ home. The years Carlisle and I had spent there were still vivid in my mind. Fresh, as though experienced just yesterday. They were a metal picture reel to be played over and over, never to be experienced again. A taunting paradise, held just beyond my grasp.

"Just over a year," he replied, expressionless. His demeanor reminded me of his behavior the previous evening – detached.

I guessed that Edward hadn't felt inclined to inform me of their new residence, nor of Rosalie._ What else is he hiding? _I cleared my throat, not wanting to dwell on such thoughts. The tense atmosphere was enough to suffocate me. "What is the real reason you knocked on the door?" I inquired coldly.

His surprised reaction pleased me. "Cornelia... some recent thoughts have been troubling me."

The moment I'd been dreading had finally reached me. My stomach twisted in a sudden burst of nerves. "There's no need to avoid the topic, Carlisle. I could plainly see that you and Edward were at ends about bringing me here last evening."

My perceptiveness struck a nerve; he frowned. "Do not misunderstand – I fully welcome you into our home. Edward has been angling for a visit for months now; the incident last night was a perfect excuse to contact you." He paused minutely. "However, I'm concerned for a different reason, my dear."

Electric sparks jumped beneath my skin at the endearment he used. _"Dear"?_ My hope swelled, consuming every fiber of me like the strongest aphrodisiac. But my coherent mind fought against it, knowing that the past could not be undone. Words are powerful things; their effect can bring as much suffering as they can hope. "Carlisle, be careful of what you say –"

"I still love you."

My heart stalled like a biplane at a ninety degree angle, and didn't recover until I took a deep, steading breath. I looked up at him carefully – the man that had once been the love of my life. The man I had once cherished more than my very existence. The man that had stolen my heart and kept a part of it with him. He had been the very reason for my life. My center. My purpose. My soul mate.

Key word: _had_.

"How _dare_ you," I hissed venomously, balling my fists. Anger filled every inch of my mind, blurring out any other thought. My voice shook with the intensity of it. "Just when I was beginning to finally accept that you _didn't_. To finally convince myself that it was all a mistake!" Each word grew louder; the entire estate was sure to hear.

He was speechless with shock. "Cornelia, I'm so –"

"I'm through with your apologies, Carlisle. I'm through with your regret. Why can't we just be _happy_?"

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><p><strong>Sorry to end with a cliffhanger. Are you just as lost as Cornelia is? I hope not... review and let me know!<strong>

**Next time: "The Cullen Coven."**

**-Scarlet**

**EDIT: Since I'm sick to death of getting confused/angry PMs about this chapter, I'm putting up this brief explanation. (See Insanity is my second name's review of this chapter if you want the full version.) Here you go: Isaac can travel through time. If Carlisle had kissed Cornelia, she would have become very, _very_ angry which would have resulted in her leaving the Cullen house. Isaac didn't want this to happen, so he kept "reseting" the situation (marked by the center-justified time notations) for a different outcome. Fortunately, in the end, there was one - Carlisle didn't kiss Cornelia, instead he told her that he still loves her. And fortunately, they can talk it out in the next chapter. This will be mentioned in later chapters for further clarification; thank you for your patience.  
><strong>


	50. Chapter 46: The Cullen Coven

**Thanks for the reviews, ****TeamComrade11****, ****misstwilightprincess****, ****Insanity is my second name****, and ****H.M. Mindy****!**** And for the fav/follow, ****Angelik Angel****.**

**I've made some minor edits to the last chapter, hopefully to make it more readable. Chapter 45 was the first and last time we'll jump around in time like that... I think.**

**Enjoy this new chapter.**

**-Scarlet**

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><p><strong>Chapter 46: The Cullen Coven<strong>

_December 8th 1941, 6:25am_

_Dearborn, Michigan_

Carlisle Cullen is possibly the most intelligent man I've ever met. Not only does he posses vast knowledge like that of the Volturi, but he also has the ability to sympathize with and resolve nearly any situation. His empathy, his compassion, is certainly his most admirable trait. His existence has been a constant struggle due to the morals which he strives to uphold – the idea that _all_ life, no matter how small, is equal to his own. This equality leads to coexistence, and this coexistence to harmony. No matter how hard the Volturi would try, they could never blend as seamlessly with society as Carlisle has. He has found peace through balance, and balance through peace.

However, I do believe that this was the _stupidest_ thing that _foolish_ man has ever done.

His four words bounced around in my mind, echoing and tearing at me from every possible angle. _"I still love you,"_ he'd said. Everything I'd experienced, everything I'd sacrificed for him became my weapon, my justification for hating him now. The hate spread through me like a disease, infecting every good thought and emotion in its wake. I surrendered to it easily; in fact, I _welcomed_ it. Feeling heated disgust was much better than cold regret. I basked in it.

Lifting my hand with the new power I felt, I reeled it back to smack him across the face. He caught my wrist before I was able to do so, and clasped my hand between his own. I struggled to break free, spewing profanities in my blind rage that I've long since forgotten.

"Cornelia –" I loosened my hands from his grasp and took another swing at him, forcing him to strafe to the side. He then caught hold of my arms and fastened them to my sides, restraining my efforts. "Cornelia, please understand..."

"No, Carlisle. _You_ understand." I quickly found that I couldn't move an inch, so I scowled at him instead. "I can't bear this anymore. I'll go _insane_!"

His composure had returned, eons too late. "I know my actions are inexcusable, but you must realize that you're not the only one in pain." He searched my eyes relentlessly, and I feared for a moment that he saw the thoughts behind them. "The only way to truly be happy is through closure, and closure requires us to face the past. To embrace it.

"Let me finish." He held my gaze intently as he explained, even when I tried to look away. "I still love you... because I lost you, Cornelia. You disappeared from my life without a trace in 1816. For years I believed you dead, and have been mourning you ever since. I need to... attend the funeral, if you will."

The analogy sent chills through me, cooling down my heated temper. Though hard to accept, his words were utter truth, spoken from the depths of his heart. They touched me deeply, and resonated like a single note from a beautiful song. I felt a cool tear slide down my flushed cheek; my throat felt like glue.

"Do you understand?" he pressed gently.

I realized that he'd released me only when he offered a small, white kerchief. Taking it slowly, I pressed my eyes into the soft cotton, hiding my face in shame. "A bit," I replied hoarsely.

"I believe this time spent together will help us adapt to the changes that have happened," he continued. "We both need time to accept our new situations. My family doesn't know much about you, but I'm certain that they'll welcome you just as I have. Edward has spoken of you many times."

I neatly folded the tissue and stared at the pure white surface, trying to interpret his words. It sounded as though he wanted me to make a fresh impression on his "family." _But has Carlisle spoken of me?_

His tone grew gentle, almost comical, and a warm smiled graced his face. "You surprised me last night, Cornelia. I was rudely reminded of your independence."

I laughed lightly, feeling strangely relieved after my outburst. I'd forgotten the strong, calming affect that Carlisle's presence had on me. Most of the time, at least. Touching my left shoulder, "And I of your medicinal impulses," I quipped.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

The cloudy morning was misty and cold; the rain-soaked ground was sure to freeze that night. Though the sun rose behind the clouds, I could practically feel the temperature dropping. The weather was overall peculiar.

I nestled deeper in the brown coat that Carlisle had forced me to take on my way out the door; he'd been concerned for my health when I announced my need for fresh air. The house – which I quickly discovered was nothing less than a mansion – was completely devoid of its residents by the time our conversation came to a close. This relieved me greatly, for I'd felt rather disinclined to make an appearance along with Carlisle.

The forest surrounding the Cullen residence was dense, littered with untouched pine and maple trees. The leaves of the canopy dripped with chilly rainwater, occasionally splashing on my cheek or shoulder as I moved along. I crossed many animal trails in my wanderings, but alas, I had no means by which to hunt without my sidearm, Lakota's silver dagger. _If only Edward had taken the time to retrieve my belongings..._

I eventually happened upon a small clearing; the trees had evidently been removed by humans decades prior. Their aged stumps were soggy, but made for perfect sitting places nonetheless. Drawing my knees up to my chest, I sat there to clear my mind of its turmoil.

Carlisle was correct – there was no doubt in my mind that his logic was sound. He loved me – and I him – but in an affable sense of the word. A platonic sense. On that dreary day, I began the process of convincing myself of this fact, and that process continues even now.

"Your hair is a mess."

I startled, broken from my musings, and quickly stood to my feet. A small girl stood about a hundred feet from me; I also sensed several other presences in the surrounding trees. My breathing accelerated due to my defensive instincts, but returned to normal when I saw the pleasing color of her eyes. Her words registered in my mind moments later. "Is it?" I reached up to comb my fingers through my hair, but was blocked by tangles.

"Alice, that was very rude," a familiar voice said. Edward appeared behind me, his hair dotted with droplets of water from the foggy morning.

_Alice?_ My eyes became transfixed on the girl as my mind reeled with memories of the name. In none of them was she pictured as tiny as I saw her then. I'd imagined her as vain and reproachful, not innocent and young. I was struck speechless with shock.

I whipped around at the sound of a crushed leaf, scanning the westward trees with wary eyes. A tall man with curly hair stood just inside the dark forest, gazing back with caution that matched my own. Edward's sudden step forward distracted me from the man's scrutiny.

Following the direction of Edward's concerned gaze, I found that it lead back to the girl. "Alice is experiencing difficulty controlling herself," he said simply.

The news surprised me. _My blood's scent must have a stronger affect on her than I'd realized. _I began backing away on sheer impulse.

"Don't worry – I won't harm you." She stepped closer as she said this, her small fists growing tighter with every inch. "I've seen it."

The vague response didn't console me. My ankles ached with the effort it took to keep myself stationary. Even though Edward stood quite close, I felt completely defenseless as the small woman neared me. Her steps were light, almost as though her slight weight was barely enough to keep her grounded to the earth. _Appearances can be deceiving. _I readied the use of my ability, just in case her "sight" was flawed.

Her face was stone-like when she reached me; she looked up at me with eyes that could shatter any bravado. Her short hair rustled in the slight breeze as she stood motionless for several long moments. Finally, she said with a shrill voice, "It's good to meet you in person, Cornelia."

I was relieved that she didn't offer a hand in greeting, and cleared my throat before speaking. "Likewise... You must be Alice Brandon."

"That's right," she said, the hint of a smile on her petite lips. "You are... different from what I expected, Cornelia."

I had half a mind to say the same of her. "In what way?"

"You are... older. I can feel your age just by standing here with you."

The statement surprised me. _What a peculiar observation..._ "Is that apart of your ability as well?"

She shook her head, causing a small clump of hair to fall over her eye. She didn't seem to mind this as she said, "No. I think everyone can feel it."

I could relate through my experience with the three Volturi lords – their presence emanated with ancient wisdom. "I see."

The figure in the trees had drawn closer during our exchange, pulling my attention away from the odd girl. Upon closer observation, the dark-haired man's eyes were a pleasing amber color. Though his tall body was muscled and tone, his movements were as fluid as any other of his kind. His gaze was narrowed and cautious as he approached me; much like Alice could sense my age, I sensed the man's youth.

Edward intercepted him, placing a restraining hand on his muscular arm. "You aren't completely –"

"I'm fine, Edward," the man said, shrugging out of Edward's grasp. He took three hesitant steps closer to me, but no more. His sudden, dimpled smile was out-of-place, but welcoming nonetheless. "I'm Emmett."

I nodded in salutation, folding my hands respectfully. "I am Cornelia. It's a pleasure, Emmett." His grin was contagious.

"Emmett was changed by Carlisle a short time ago, Cornelia...," Edward said uncertainly. "I'm surprised that his reaction to you isn't... _stronger_."

"I saw this," murmured Alice. I glanced over to find that she hadn't moved an inch. "It's just like Jasper said –"

"We all react differently to her blood... I suppose."

The familiar voice sent lightning down my spine. Jasper Whitlock entered the small clearing – his clothes a mess, hair in disarray – and crossed the space to stand by Alice. His arm slipped around her waist, connecting the two of them together like puzzle pieces. As I studied them, the word "destiny" took on a whole new meaning. Alice had described their fates as "set in stone" in the letter she'd sent to me. I then saw the pure truth of that statement; this realization brought warmth to my heart and a smile to my face. The two stood there as one – together, united.

"Jasper," I greeted, slightly distracted.

His expression was less stressed than I remembered – he seemed at peace. "Cora," he returned, nodding leisurely. "Good to see you."

"Yes, I suppose," Edward muttered, replying to Jasper's previous statement. "We should exercise caution, just in case."

"Thank you for your concern, Edward. All is well," I said dismissively. "I trust Alice's judgment." I glanced in her direction, hoping for a positive reaction, but received nothing more than a blank stare. Her small hands were latched onto Jasper's arm like a bird's talons. _She's still struggling._

Edward wasn't satisfied. "Don't put that trust too far, Cornelia. Alice's sight has been unfocused lately."

Rosalie pranced into sight before I could speculate his comment further, her golden locks bouncing about her shoulders. As she took a place next to Emmett, she gave Edward a firm, purposeful glance. Judging by Edward's slight nod, she had silently communicated with him. The act appeared natural, as though it had been practiced many times before.

"I see you've been introduced to my mate, Cornelia," she purred, resting her hand on his chest. "Isn't he wonderful?"

This information amazed me – the two appeared to be complete opposites in my short observations of them.

"Ah, Rose," Emmett chagrined, stooping to kiss the top of her head. Rosalie beamed.

Lost in thought, I couldn't generate an ample response. I longed to know how the two had encountered each other, how they found the obvious love they shared, but my curiosity was too bold to voice at the time. Remembering that Jasper stood nearby, I tried to hide my true emotions behind false ones. I stomped out my curiosity, my fascination, and, most of all... my jealousy of Rosalie and Emmett.

"Now you've met all of us... Cornelia, are you hungry?"

Edward's question startled me from my musings, followed by another growl from my stomach. My cheeks flushed as I slipped an arm around my waist. "Oh, um, yes. I could use a hot meal." _I'm too weak to hunt._

"I understand. We might have a can or two of preserve at the house," he said, gesturing in the direction of the house.

"Perfect," I sighed in relief. I sensed Rosalie and Emmett fall in behind us as we began the trip back, but Jasper and Alice went their own way. My stomach twisted again, and not from hunger this time – I wondered what sort of impression I made on Alice.

"You shouldn't worry about Alice," Edward scolded.

Rosalie walked beside me, setting a rather speedy pace for the rest of us to follow. "She's been like that since I've known her," she said. "Carlisle says it's her 'adjustment period.'"

I frowned, puzzled. _Adjustment to what?_

"Hunting animals," Edward said with a tone as solemn as his face.

Feeling a bit naive, I nodded stiffly. "It must be difficult...," I trailed off, glancing at my three companions. Since Emmett had been changed by Carlisle, I assumed that Rosalie had been as well due to their close nature. All of them had awaken into Carlisle's lifestyle, thereby giving them an inborn sense of control. I entertained the idea that by avoiding regular consumption of human blood, they were relatively stronger to resist its call. The notion was certainly true for Carlisle; why not for every vampire?

A memory of Edward's "lapse period" drifted into my thoughts, testing the solidity of my theory. Even though he'd grown under Carlisle's careful instruction, he'd deviated from his "father's" straight and narrow path. Was it an inevitability that Emmett and Rosalie did too?

"Of course not."

"I'm sorry," I whispered immediately, stealing a glance up at Edward's affronted gaze. My mind had wandered a bit too far. Living alone, I surmised, was the cause of my easily-distracted mind. I then thought directly to him; something I'd never done before. _I shouldn't doubt you._

"That time is far passed," he said with finality, looking away.

My guilt remained, over what I'd "said" and my disrespect to our other companions. Rosalie wore a smug look, as though she'd guessed the topic of our vague exchange. Emmett's expression was the very opposite – confused with a slight trace of suspicion. My curiosity regarding them returned in a flash.

"Rosalie, Emmett," I chimed, addressing them. "Please tell me about yourselves. I'm very curious."

They exchanged a surprised glance, and smiled when their eyes met. The act was so simple, pure – it touched me. "You should start. It all starts with you anyway," Emmett laughed. His carefree voice echoed through the woods.

Rosalie laughed melodiously, throwing her head back with a very human quality. "Of course it does."

The pair suddenly struck a familiar nerve in my mind. _Heidi and Felix! _My surprise over why I hadn't noticed it before was all-pervasive. The nervousness that the morning had caused melted away as Rosalie and Emmett's stories were told, Edward chiming in when needed. My worry over Carlisle became completely nonexistent. The atmosphere waxed familiar and comfortable, the conversation light and friendly.

For a moment, it felt as though I could belong with this small vampire coven – this Cullen coven.

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><p><strong>Was Alice's entrance what you expected? Do you think Carlisle's plan is justified? Could Cornelia actually "belong" somewhere in your opinion? Review and tell me.<br>**

**Next time: "Doctor Party - Part One"**

**-Scarlet  
><strong>


	51. Chapter 47: Doctor Party – Part 1

**Thank you for your reviews, H.M. Mindy,** **TeamComrade11,** **Insanity is my second name,** **Holly,** **misstwilightprincess, and XxTwistedIvyxX!** **And for the favs/follows,** **serena83** **and** **C. L. LaCroix.  
><strong>

**Enjoy this new chapter.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 47: Doctor Party – Part One<strong>

_December 22, 1941, 5:23 p.m._

_Dearborn, Michigan_

"Shall we go back?"

"No, it's too early."

"We planned to leave at 6 o' clock... it's half past 5 now."

"Ten minutes is plenty of time to prepare."

"If you say so..."

"I do." I wore a look of triumph as Edward fell silent, chuckling under his breath. We'd spend the last several hours deep in the forest, speaking of this and that, hunting small game merely for our pleasure. I'd sorely missed these pleasant times that we shared, so I treasured every passing moment.

Two weeks had passed swiftly during my time with the Cullen family. I spent most days with Edward, Rosalie, and Emmett. Encounters with Alice were rare, as she and Jasper frequently disappeared. These disappearances often lasted a few hours, or even a few days. I didn't mind it, however – I enjoyed the three's company inexplicably.

Avoiding Esme Cullen, on the other hand, was quite a chore. She had been elevated to the rank of matron of the house, and played her role in a remarkable fashion. Nothing occurred within ten square miles of the mansion that she didn't know about. Our passing conversations were the usual pleasantries, sometimes a kind remark about the other's hair or outfit. The relationship between us quickly developed into something shallow, petty. Furthermore, I was quite content to leave it that way.

During the weekdays, Carlisle worked as a doctor in the sizable hospital in Dearborn. I referred to it as sizable, not having attended more than a small clinic in my lifetime, but by normal standards, the hospital was rather unimpressive. Doctor Cullen left each morning at seven, and didn't return until well after eight in the evening. Evenings in the Cullen estate consisted of study and silence; I could easily see that Carlisle's scholarly habits had been passed to his family.

On one particular night, the lot of them ventured out to hunt as a group. Edward told me that these family "hunting trips" were usually planned, and sometimes involved traveling a great distance. He explained that the surrounding wildlife was in danger of being completely eradicated due to the number of vampires preying upon them, so they adjusted their hunting patterns accordingly. Before I'd witnessed this, I assumed that "over-hunting" was only a human concern.

"Are you afraid of getting wet?" I asked Edward, who cautiously probed the surface of a frozen pond with his shoe. All water sources had frozen over, due to the past week's arctic weather conditions. Though snow had been rare, a thin, white layer of it blanketed the forest. Frost-covered leaves crunched softly beneath my feet as I joined Edward at the pond's icy bank.

"Of course not," he replied, amused by the implication. "I'm afraid of what Rose would do if I ruined these shoes." He tapped the Italian leather heels together, grinning.

"There would certainly be a mess to clean up afterwards," I laughed, picturing Rosalie's irate expression and Esme's concern over her house. "I've only met one other person with a greater passion for clothes..."

"Heidi?" he asked casually as he eased his weight onto the ice. By that time, Edward was very familiar with my memories of the Volturi – my mind often stayed to them.

"Yes...," I said, carefully setting my foot next to his on the frozen surface. I heard microscopic fractures immediately forming under my light step, so I withdrew. "If I know the both of them well enough, I can guess that Rosalie has some dress waiting for me tonight."

Edward, proud of his successful stroll across the ice, nodded in agreement. "She's been planning it for a few days actually. She told me to keep it a secret." He grinned wickedly at me, the distant setting sun glinting off his teeth.

"It's that bad, then," I muttered to myself, eyes downcast. The dwindling sunlight bathed the snowy ground in a myriad of sparkles, each crystal of snow reflecting its own unique color. The sight was familiar, yet spellbinding all the same. "I suppose Alice and Jasper haven't changed their minds?" I asked Edward.

He shook his head. "Carlisle was kind to offer, but I don't see how they could possibly come. Jasper just isn't ready for that kind of exposure, and Alice is still a nervous wreck." This made me recall that Alice hadn't been able to "see" anything about that particular evening. In fact, the events surrounding my arrival had even been hard for her to detect. Since her ability is based on decision-making, and the results surrounding those decisions, we all assumed that it simply meant nothing important would come to pass.

I sighed in response. "I can assure you, Carlisle's sister is just as nervous as Alice for this evening."

The Wayne County Hospital Association, of which Carlisle was an employee, hosted an annual "Christmas Charity Ball" each year. Or, as Emmett had dubbed it, an annual "doctor party." It was basically an individually-sponsored Christmas event to raise awareness and money for the county's medical system. Granted, a good percentage of the individual sponsorship came from none other than the Cullen family...

Invitations had arrived in the post just days after my arrival, much to the delight of Rosalie and Esme. They were the most sociable of the family, no doubt. Each of Doctor Cullen's "adopted" children were invited, who publicly received "education" at home, as well as one guest of their choosing. Edward had insisted that I come as his guest, and so my alias as Carlisle's sister was born. If I were to appear publicly with the Cullen family, Edward claimed, then a believable story must be told. I agreed reluctantly, only due to the hopeful smile on Rosalie's face.

"Everything will be fine. We're used to pretending by now. We're professionals," Edward joshed, shooting me a quick smile.

I couldn't help but return it. "Let's go back, then."

The forest was washed in a blueish glow as we set out for home. The clear twilight sky quickly became splattered with twinkling heavenly bodies, much like the colorful lights I'd seen on the frozen leaves. Each star varied in size and hue, yet all of them held the same amount of beauty. I'd taken the night sky for granted in recent years, but, as Edward pitched his head back to take in the view, I couldn't help but lose myself in it too.

"_There_ you are." A nagging voice accosted us before we'd even reached the house. "Where have you been?"

"Nowhere, anywhere, everywhere," Edward replied, dodging a (playful?) smack from Rosalie. Her ability to maneuver so well in her long, slender evening gown was a miracle in itself.

She latched onto my arm and began dragging me toward the house. "We've only got twenty minuets to get ready and your _hair_ isn't even done," she snapped.

I reached back to find that my waist-length hair was fixed in a loose braid. _Did I fix this yesterday or the day before? _"My hair is fine," I told her calmly. She was already pulling me up the stairs to her room, the room in which I first woke up at the Cullens'.

"Your hair" – she paused to sniff behind my ear – "smells like the _forest_! How will we get that out in ten minutes?"

"Twenty minutes," I corrected, catching myself on the edge of the bed when she flung me into the room.

She whirled to the vanity mirror, picking up a puff and patting away at her pale cheek. "Your dress is in the wardrobe, put it on. We'll just perfume your hair," she said, arduously continuing her ministrations.

I sighed and obeyed, knowing better than to dispute my evening attire. Rosalie's dress was a warm shade of red, festive for the Christmas season, and descended to the ground past her bare feet. The collar was very revealing of her slim collarbones, adorned with a golden chain, and the shoulder pads highlighted her broad shoulders. A red, silk waistband rested on her hips, attached to a sash that nearly reached the floor. Her long sleeves rested on petite wrists, which led to ruby tips on her fingers. If I hadn't know Rosalie better, I'd have been thoroughly intimidated by her appearance.

_Please be modest_, I thought as I pulled the wardrobe open.

The dress before me was not modest, though very pleasing in its way. The satin cloth of the shin-length dress was pure white, gathered at the waist by a small band. The shoulder-straps were about an inch think, which connected to a very low and cupping bustline. However, the gossamer layer that encased the dress from bust to knee made up for it. The light material was lightly woven with glimmering thread, the thinnest I'd ever seen, which caught the dim light of the room in a warm rainbow of colors. Much like how the tiny snowflakes reflected the setting sun.

"It looks like a snowflake," I commented absently, extending my hand to run across the rough gossamer cloth. Lifting that layer up, I found that the satin beneath was soft to the touch.

"That's the idea, with the season and all," Rosalie said as she finished the last touch of her makeup. To my surprise, the cosmetics made her appear very human – rosy cheeks, shaded eyes, even less-angular cheekbones. All human except the bright red lips, of course.

"It's lovely. Thank you." I draped the pretty dress across the bed and prepared to undress. Two pairs of shoes had been set aside, of which I assumed the white, ballerina-like pair was mine. I was relieved to have found that Rosalie honored my request of a "sensible" shoe design. _Of course, those would tear easily if I were to run in them..._

Five minutes later, I stood in front of the full-length mirror as Rosalie fussed over my hair. She had already brushed it out, doused it with rose-scented perfume, and tried several different hairstyles, none of which were to her liking. She finally decided on a loose bun, leaving the uneven pieces dangling about my head like bed curtains. "That's what you get when you leave your hair back for days and days. Split ends!" She slapped my hand away when I tried to tuck the strands behind my ear.

Though she insisted on lending me jewelry, I declined. I was sick of jewelry – rings, lockets, earrings, rings... they were all pointless. Instead, my ensemble was complete with a small, white ribbon tied around my bun. The ends of it tickled the nape of my neck, causing me to shiver occasionally. Rosalie also dusted my face with foul-smelling powder and smeared my lips with pink lipstick. Unaccustomed to wearing makeup, I continuously resisted the urge to rub my face clean.

"Cornelia, you look... young," Rosalie said, her tone surprised, as we exited the room. We each held our outfit's matching pocketbook, loaded with extra makeup. Fortunately, Edward had sent Emmett after my belongings in Detroit the week prior, so my silver dagger laid flat in the small handbag, sheathed by a strip of stitched leather.

"Good," I replied. "I want to look as young as possible for our cover story to be vindicated."

She nodded in understanding. "Don't worry about a thing – you look well under twenty in that dress."

I briefly touched the top of my bare, bony chest as we descended the stairs. _Ha... I bet I do._

Emmett whistled when we entered the room at the bottom of the stairs – the sitting room – and for a moment I felt a bit bashful. But I soon found that his praise was meant solely for Rosalie, whom he scooped up in his arms and showered with kisses. My eyes fell to the carpet as I adjusted the uncomfortable shoulder strap of my dress.

I hadn't realized that Edward was in the room until he spoke. "You're stunning, Cornelia," he said softly.

This time my embarrassment was genuine. I met his eyes for just a moment to convey my appreciation. "And you are, as well." His tuxedo suit was tailored to perfection.

"Thank you, _aunt_."

I looked up, surprised, but then scowled bitterly when I remembered my "status" in the Cullen family.

Emmett had overheard us. "Ready for tonight, _aunt_?" he asked wryly, earning an enamored giggle from Rosalie. He was so consumed with Rosalie that he didn't even comment on my rather provocative dress.

"As long as my _nephew_ remembers to behave himself tonight," I said with mock sternness, holding up a finger.

"No promises." He winked.

I knew he was only joking, but still the response unnerved me slightly. I didn't know much about young vampires, except for their poignant lack of control. Though Edward assured me of Emmett's (and Rosalie's for that matter) willpower, I decided to remain conservatively hopeful in my expectations.

Esme wore a simple, golden gown with a lacy shift around her shoulders as she descended the stairs. One by one, she complimented her "children" on their clothes. After getting what I assumed was the "cold shoulder," I complimented her dress and inquired after the maker of her bronze and topaz broach.

"A small shop in Hoquiam sells these sort of trinkets. Carlisle bought it for me," she replied, turning away to converse with Rosalie.

As the atmosphere became a bit stiffer due to her presence, I couldn't help but wonder if the shop which Esme referred to was "Timmins' Glassworks," where Carlisle had once purchased a pocket watch as my Christmas gift. _Surely it's not the same... after all these years._

Carlisle followed soon after his wife, wearing the same black suit as Edward and Emmett. As a group, we appeared to be a well-to-do, high-society family. And who's to say we weren't?

We agreed to depart, even though the "doctor party" wasn't scheduled to begin until seven that evening. The event was to be held in a rented hall on the outskirts of Detroit, the county's largest city. Edward and I occupied his light-gray General Motors vehicle, and the rest took the same Ford car that had been my rescue two weeks before, which apparently belonged to Carlisle. The seats in Edward's were more comfortable.

Just as Rosalie closed the front door, I remembered that I'd left my handbag on the sitting room sofa. I apologized to Edward and hoped out of the car, thankful that Emmett had spotted a flat tire on the Ford to delay us. Shuffling around in the lavishly pillowed sofa, I frowned when another presence joined me in the room, seeing fit to close the front door behind himself.

I held up my handbag when I found it, as though showing off an impressive catch. "No trouble, Carlisle. I found it." He smiled grimly as I passed him, hand stretched for the door. I paused with my hand on the cool metal of the doorknob, sensing his delay. "Shall we be off?" I whispered, though I'd intended to sound harsh.

"We have a few moments to speak. I want to be clear on our supposed 'relations' this evening," he began, pausing when he turned to face me. When he saw my expression, which I tried to keep as patronizing as possible, he gave me a pleased smile. "Though I don't think the role will be particularly difficult for you."

He was no doubt referring to our first year in Hoquiam, during which circumstance had forced us into an uncle/niece role. I remembered how my white lie had caught fire so easily, like a match in a grassfield, and spread through the small town. My gaze softened without my permission as we both saw the reminiscence in the other's eyes. "Everything will be fine," I said, using Edward's words from hours prior, "I'm a professional."

If we had parted on that friendly note, that amiable exchange, that light-hearted chuckle, then _maybe_ that evening would've been one to enjoy. But he didn't end the conversation there. I stood statue-still as he neared me, fingers brushing my forehead, my cheek, my neck. It could have been some sick game, just to see how I would react, but I had no insight into the possibility. Even when he leaned down to plant a chaste kiss on my cheek, I couldn't be sure if he only did so to provoke me.

"The others are ready," he murmured against my skin, his breath cascading across it like a gentle caress. I shivered... not from the ribbon this time.

As I sat in the passenger seat next to Edward, my handbag placed carelessly in my lap, I tried to distract my mind from the fresh turmoil that Carlisle's kiss caused. I wanted to reverse time, to prevent his actions from happening, to convince myself that it had been just one more daydream. But I couldn't reverse it, couldn't prevent it, and definitely couldn't convince myself. I reached a stalemate within myself; the line between right and wrong, which was usually so clear, blurred.

The car barreled onward toward the night that would change the world.

To be continued...

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><p><strong>Tell me what you think in a review! Sadly, my telepathy can't reach through your computer screen...<strong>

**Next time: "Doctor Party - Part Two"  
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**-Scarlet  
><strong>


	52. Chapter 48: Doctor Party – Part 2

**Chapter 48: Doctor Party – Part Two**

_December 22, 1941, 6:45 p.m._

_Detroit, Michigan_

A full hour transpired before we reached the city. The car ride was unbearably slow, though Edward insisted that he had exceeded the speed limit several times. My fingers fiddled nervously in my lap, and my eyes stared ahead at the dark windshield. Few words were exchanged because of the radio's loud volume, which was tuned to a popular news station.

_"In other news, President Roosevelt has assigned Great War hero Douglas MacArthur as military commander of the Allied effort, much to the heightened morale of soldiers across the globe..."_

The lights of outskirts Detroit comforted me minutely. As I leaned against the cold window, I noticed that moisture had condensed on the glass due to my warm presence. Raising my hand, I traced two letters in the thin cloud. I frowned at the meaning behind them.

"CC?" Edward chucked. He didn't bother to look over – he'd seen the action through my thoughts.

"For 'Cornelia Cullen'... my cover name," I said dryly, forcing myself not to fully grasp the irony. I'd once craved that name more than anything.

He grinned instead of addressing my concerns. "Not married, Miss Cullen?"

I answered before I could decide if his tone was serious or not. "I _am_ just seventeen years of age. Or am I eighteen?" I joked lightly. He'd successfully distracted me from my dark thoughts.

He thought for a moment. "Well, if you're still born on December 5, then you should be a fresh eighteen-year-old."

"Well put," I said, recalling my recent birthday. It was just days before I encountered Carlisle and Edward; I had been hunting all day near my apartment building when I realized the exact date. Similar to my other 162 birthdays, I paid it little mind. My birth-date was only a marker for another year of my immortal life; in other words, pointless. A cold reminder of my beastly half... my unnatural birthright.

I started when a hand suddenly touched my own. Glancing down, I saw Edward's pale fingers illuminated in a strange, orange glow from the outside lights. His hand rested on mine, which was clutching the side of my seat like a vice. His eyes searched my face when I looked at him, and his voice was soft and earnest as he said, "Don't think like that."

I relaxed immediately, slipping my hand away from his and turning my head. I scattered my thoughts. "It can't be helped, Edward. You know I always cling to the truth." I blinked in surprise when I realized the car had already stopped.

"Nonetheless –" he began, but fell silent when the others walked passed the car, waving for us to follow. "Let's go."

The streets were lit with the same orange light as the rest of the city. Electricity hummed from every lamppost, just under the human range of hearing. I'd become accustomed to the modern sound, yet still felt unsettled by it. I felt out-of-place. Out of _time_.

Edward shot me another "don't think like that" glance as we joined the others on the sidewalk, heading for the rented hall down the street. Chattering humans passed us by, sometimes in groups, sometimes in couples, sometimes alone. Cars filled the quiet evening with the roar of their engines, crowding the streets and lining the curb. We walked through the din for roughly five minutes before arriving at our destination – a tall, plain building among scores of its kind. A doorman stood at the entrance, beside a sign clearly marked "Wayne County Hospital Association's Annual Christmas Charity Ball," and checked our names off the guest list. He swallowed unusually loud when Carlisle listed each of his family members; the Cullen name carried more weight than I'd assumed.

Emmett motioned for me to pass him and Rosalie when we were finally allowed to enter. "After you, CC," he said with emphasis, grinning. I sighed at the thought. Thus began the nickname I would never live down.

Another attendant waited inside the door. "May I take your coats, ladies and gentlemen?" he asked. The small hallway which we entered was filled with the sounds of music and voices; I sensed a large room on the other side of the wall. _There must be over a hundred humans to make such a ruckus._

I gingerly shrugged out of my petticoat, being very careful of Rosalie's delicate hairstyle. As the sleeves slid over my arms, I caught sight of a blemish on my forearm. My heart nearly stopped at the sudden notion. _My scars! _The marks littered my skin – my legs, my arms, my chest, and especially my neck. Most were faded by my years of existence, but nonetheless, they remained. _What will I say if I'm questioned after them?_

"They can't see them, you know." Edward stepped behind me and assisted in removing my coat, handing it to the waiting attendant. "Their vision isn't strong enough," he murmured quietly. Too quiet for human ears.

"Are you sure?" I urged him, pressing my suddenly clammy palms together.

Edward looked pointedly at the attendant, who glanced in my direction as he turned to the next group of arriving guests. He nodded sharply. "Absolutely. Just don't let anyone touch you," he warned.

I discreetly grazed my hand across my neck as I followed him down the hallway. The skin there was raised, uneven. I swallowed heavily, worried by this new variable. My regular clothes were concealing enough to hide the old battle wounds, but the dress Rosalie assigned me was the opposite of concealing. _What a bother._

The room we entered was vast, warm, and decorated from ceiling to floor with holiday cheer. It would pass as a ballroom if it actually had chandeliers. A half-orchestra was placed at the rear wall, playing a dull tune to which several couples danced in the large, open space. Tables of food and drink stood around this space, littered with sitting chairs here and there. Humans of all ages enjoined these refreshments, talking, laughing, and socializing to their heart's content. I observed this scene for several seconds, trying to recall the last time I'd been in such a high-society setting.

"It's no wonder why Alice and Jasper didn't come... I'd forgotten how difficult..." Rosalie's voice was faint and strained; her hands grasped Emmett's arm tightly. Restraint was clear in her expression and movements.

"Rose?" Emmett asked, concerned. He was seemingly unaffected by the large congregation of humans, as was Esme and Edward.

"Rosalie, are you able?" Carlisle interrupted, leaving Esme's side to confront her.

"Yes, I'll manage." After a moment, she stood a bit straighter and her confident tone of voice returned. "Of course I'll manage." She smiled to reassure us all, but for the rest of the evening, we kept a silent watch over her.

After getting each of our assent, Carlisle led us around the room to greet some of his coworkers. Mostly doctors were in attendance, though a good percentage of guests were actual patients. The bulk of the assemblage, however, were sons, daughters, and relatives of the medical professionals. This fact relieved me greatly – our group blended in with the other families quite well.

"And lastly, Doctor Stanley, this is my sister, Cornelia Cullen. She's visiting from Boston."

Carlisle's voice caught my attention when it mentioned my name. I was immediately taken aback by its rich, clear American accent. Though I knew that his English roots had faded over the years, I could tell this new accent was completely fabricated. _Edward wasn't joking after all. They _are _professionals. _After recovering from the small shock, I grinned cheekily at Doctor Stanley, the first of many doctors I would meet that evening. Dusting off my old acting skills, I gave the elderly man a small, childish curtsy. "How do you do, Doctor Stanley?" I said in a crisp, young voice.

"Quite well, quite well," the gentleman replied, pressing his whiskered lips to my hand. "It's a pleasure, I'm sure, Miss Cullen."

I pulled my hand away bashfully and hid a pretend blush. "Likewise, Doctor."

This immature façade became my trademark that evening, much to amusement of Emmett and Edward. Even Rosalie hid the occasional smile when I addressed a new figure. Doctor Wilson. Doctor Greene. Doctor Chillder. Nurses John and Sarah Davis, a married couple. Nurse Chamberlin. Doctor Eastman. Doctor Foster. After a brief encounter the Doctor Letterman, the Chief Surgeon, our group dispersed with much relief. Edward and I were the two "loners," as Emmett would say, but I declined his offer to escort me. Several of the daughters had been competing for his attention ever since we stepped foot in the crowd.

I found a secluded chair and scooped up a small dish of chocolate from a nearby table. Sitting there, my greatest concern was whether I should cross my legs at the knees or ankles. I watched Rosalie and Emmett quarrel over the technicalities of a waltz as they spun around the dance floor; Carlisle and Esme were buried in conversation a small distance from where I sat. Edward was nowhere to be seen.

My first bite of the chocolate was surprising – I found a bittersweet pomegranate in the center. The taste was new and pleasing to me. I munched happily on my new friend for several minutes until a human child's voice interrupted me.

"You look as bored as I am," it said, forcing me to address it.

_Adolescence, soap, bowtie._ These were the first conclusions I drew when I glanced at the boy, and I didn't wish to draw any others. I tried to make this obvious when I nodded rigidly in his direction, conscious that my giddy facade had whithered. Unlike the others, there was a limit to my tolerance of falseness.

He wasn't quick to notice my cold attitude. Instead, he followed the direction of my aimless gaze with his own as if joining me in some interesting activity. A few moments of awkward silence passed, during which I nibbled on another piece of chocolate, mentally willing the boy to leave. "My dad's a surgeon at the Detroit hospital... what's yours do?"

"My _brother_," I stressed, "attends the emergency care in Dearborn."

I didn't note his expression, but his tone was impressed. "I've never been there. Do you like it?"

I slipped another chocolate between my lips, pushing it aside with my tongue, before reluctantly replying. "I'm only visiting."

"From where?"

_So many questions. _"Boston, Massachusetts."

The boy actually laughed at this. "You don't sound like it," he stated.

"Don't I?" I piped, putting an effort into copying the distinctive accent of Boston. I caught the boy's eye and grinned to show lightheartedness.

He laughed at my joke, but it sounded forced. "You must travel a lot."

His perception surprised me. Perhaps what I had previously assumed as ignorance was actually persistence. "I do."

"Anywhere exciting?"

"Italy was my favorite."

"Oh, interesting. I've never been overseas."

More small talk passed between us for several minutes. I discovered that he'd never been to New York City, nor Washington, D. C., nor anywhere outside of Michigan. He was the only child of Doctor Letterman, the Chief Surgeon. After a time, the boy was distracted by a group of friends calling on him. Our names were not exchanged.

I had a good view of the orchestra from my seat, so I watched them play several familiar songs. Violin Concerto by Vivaldi, a slow waltz; Canon and Gigue in D by Pachelbel, a simple one-step dance; Mozart's Sonata No. 11 in an orchestral arrangement, for daring couples to attempt to waltz to. A drink waiter offered me a glass of "punch" – a red, bubbly substance with a fine layer of pink foam floating on the surface. My first sip was very unpleasant, causing me to grimace, and it left a bitter taste on my tongue. I passed the vial stuff to another waiter as I retrieved another dish of chocolate pomegranates.

The evening continued to slip away. By unanimous vote of the younger guests, a quartet of violinist broke away from the orchestra and played some upbeat, modern tunes for more lively dancing. Even some Christmas songs were requested. Older guests watched their children spin around the floor, laughing and talking with their peers like buzzing bees. Before I could decide if my sitting alone was improper or not, Carlisle approached me with a young man, at least twenty years of age, in tow.

"Cornelia, are you enjoying your evening?" Carlisle asked, wearing the same smile he had all night.

I smiled tolerantly. "Immensely, brother."

"Excellent. I would like you to meet a good friend of mine" – he presented the gentleman beside him – "Mister Wesley Parker."

I offered a hand from my sitting position, a rude gesture by any standard. The man's reaction was unbiased as he gently shook my hand. "It's a pleasure, Miss Cullen." The warmth of his skin was foreign, and I realized that it had been months since I'd had physical contact with a human being. His thick, black hair was nicely combed to the side, and his green eyes smiled even when his lips were still.

I nodded as he released my hand, giving Carlisle a weighted glance. "Mister Parker."

"Wesley here spent several months in Italy last year as well. I thought the two of you would enjoy comparing your experiences," Carlisle said, returning my glance with a hidden expression.

We had previously established my "trip to Italy" as a topic of conversation, but I hadn't expected him to use it in such a blatant manner. It felt as though he was pairing me up with this Mister Parker. His actions baited my temper, but I forced myself to be cordial for the human's sake. "Such a coincidence. I would love to discuss it, Mister Parker."

As he began prattling about his evangelical trip to Rome, I noticed Carlisle discreetly step away. My irritation became an irrational need for revenge. "I beg your pardon," I said to Mister Parker, standing and reaching for Carlisle. "Brother dear?" I called after him.

He froze on the spot and turned to me, smiling patiently. "Yes, sister?"

"Have you tasted these delightful treats?" I plucked a chocolate pomegranate from my dish and held it out to him on the palm of my hand. "No? Then you _must_ try one." I grinned deviously as the smile washed away from his face. He hesitated, searching my face with pleading eyes. Carlisle had tasted chocolate once before upon my request, and he'd claimed that the experience would be the first and last of his second life. I had no idea how a pomegranate would taste to him. In response to his silent plea, I wiggled my fingers and laughed innocently.

After some friendly encouragement from Mister Parker, who also recommended the desert, Carlisle slowly took it from my hand. His expression was pure torment as he bit down and chewed the chocolate. "Exquisite," he mumbled, trying to collect himself. To my great amusement, he could not. "Excuse me."

I laughed again, in that girlish voice that I'd invented, and waved goodbye as he walked away. Mister Parker appeared confused when I turned my attention back to him. "Would you like one, Mister Parker?" I asked pleasantly, offering him a chocolate as well.

He shook his head slightly and smiled charmingly. "Yes, thank you. Please – call me Wesley."

I drank when Wesley offered some repulsive "punch," I laughed when Wesley offered some witty remark in conversation, and I danced when Wesley offered to waltz with me. The string quartet had settled into a slower tempo when we took to the floor, playing songs like "It Had To Be You" and "La Mer." Wesley was taller than I originally estimated, so my hand rested on his upper arm rather than of his shoulder as we danced. I worried about him discovering my exposed scars at such close proximity, but reminded myself to trust Edward's judgment. Unless he actually ran his hand over my skin, they were safe from discovery.

Of the two of us, it was clear that Wesley was enjoying the evening more. I humored him though, amused by the way his breath faltered when I laughed and his skin flushed when I touched him.

"One more dance?" I asked Wesley when our current song ended, smiling in what I hoped was a charming manner.

He seemed charmed enough. "Of course."

Though the next song was slow enough for conversation, we remained silent, focused on our movements. He was an inexperienced dancer; I continuously resisted the urge to take the lead. We spun in a small circle, along with several other couples that persisted in dancing. I'd caught sight of Emmett and Rosalie several times throughout the evening, but they were no longer on the dance floor. It would be rude to my partner to turn my head to find them.

"Can I cut in?"

Wesley's face crumpled as we stepped apart to address our interrupter. Emmett stood there with his usual grin, looking quite pleased with something. "Cornelia?" Wesley said, glancing at me for approval.

"Of course. Emmett, this is Mister Wesley Parker. Wesley, my nephew, Emmett Cullen." I motioned between them as they greeted each other.

"Nice to meet you, Emmett." Wesley smiled kindly, but I could sense his disappointment at the interruption. "May I find you later, Cornelia?"

I forced myself to smile at the request. "Yes, please."

Emmett remained silent as he took my hand and led me into a sloppy waltz, waiting for Wesley to get out of earshot. Since he was much taller than Wesley, I simply rested my hand on his elbow. He chuckled darkly. "Already on a first name basis, CC?" he teased.

I sighed indignantly. "I'm tired of pretending."

"It's fun watching you," he stated. "Rose thinks you could have a successful acting career."

"Is that so?" I smiled, feeling a bit like myself in his company. "I may have to look into the possibility... if I survive the evening, that is."

"Ah, it hasn't been so bad. There's been some highlights." His eyes lit up with mischief. "The chocolate, for instance."

The reminder sent me into a fit of stifled laughter, earning me several glances from nearby guests. "You saw that!" I managed between laughs.

He nodded, smirking. "I wish Ed could've seen it, too. He's been 'getting some fresh air' for a whole hour now."

"He left?"

Emmett glanced around before answering. "I guess the crowd was bothering him. I don't blame him." He shrugged, which threw off any rhythm our steps had found.

"I see." I frowned. Though I hadn't seen Edward interact with humans on many occasions, I expected more from him. _Perhaps my expectations are misplaced._ "Well, I'm glad he knows his limitations."

Emmett scoffed. "That makes two of us. I like it here and I want to stay as long as we can."

It took me a few moments to fully understand his statement. If there was an incident which lead to their identities exposed, the rational conclusion would be to simply disappear. If humans began to suspect that they were different, the safest course of action would be to move on, preferablely far away. The saying "out of sight, out of mind" comes to mind. A very quick reaction might even be necessary, depending on the direness of the situation. Carlisle certainly had the funds to achieve this.

"I see what you mean," I mumbled.

"Getting back to the chocolate incident," Emmett said tauntingly, turning the attention back to me.

I shook my head, resisting a smile. "That will take some smoothing over for sure," I sighed, feeling suddenly guilty. In retrospect, the ruse seemed quite childish.

"Don't feel bad. He deserved it," he chuckled.

"Did he?" I asked quizzically. _How much does he know about my situation with Carlisle?_

"Sure he did." His tone of voice turned suddenly serious. "You should know that better than anyone."

My eyebrows rose at his brashness. I grasped for words, trying to decide whether I should feel embarrassed or empowered. "H-How much do you know about me, Emmett?" I asked, voicing my thoughts.

"More than I should," he said casually. "Edward and me, we're pretty close. He helped me a lot when I was... new to all of this." He shrugged again, and then winked. "Don't worry, I can keep secrets."

My head spun. _Why would Edward talk so much?_ My first reaction was anger, mostly at Edward, but I forced myself to think objectively. I knew that neither Emmett nor Edward meant any harm by it; if it stayed between the two of them then I had no need to be concerned. Rosalie seemed to know very little about me, for which I was thankful. "I trust you," I said simply, my expression neutral.

He squeezed my hand – a comforting gesture. "Good."

Moments later, Rosalie stormed toward us with Carlisle close at hand. Her brow was furrowed – from either anger or concern, I couldn't tell – and Carlisle struggled to keep a reasonable pace with her strides. Emmett and I stopped immediately and met them at the edge of the dance floor, which was a crowded mess.

"Emmett, Esme needs you," Rosalie rushed, snatching his hand and turning him in the right direction.

Emmett resisted, sensing her urgency. "What for? Is something wrong?" He looked to Carlisle for answers when Rosalie remained silent.

"The situation is under control; however, we need you to remain here with Esme to alleviate concern," he said, gesturing to the surrounding guests.

He nodded quickly. "All right. But where are you going? Can't I help?"

Carlisle cleared his throat to disguise his next statement, which was spoken too fast and quiet for human ears. "We discovered that three vampires have entered the area, and fear that Edward has intercepted them alone."

Emmett's eyes widened at the news. "Well, hurry and find him. Esme and I can catch up with you when we can." He glanced over the crowd in the direction of Esme, who was surrounded by a group of jabbering women. "_If _we can."

"Thank you, son."

Rosalie tapped her foot impatiently. "Let's go, Carlisle."

He nodded, watching Emmett weave through the crowd. "Right."

I watched them carefully throughout the exchange. The situation had arose quite suddenly, which startled me. "Um..." I caught Rosalie and Carlisle's attention just before they turned to leave. "Shall I accompany you?"

"Yes," said Rosalie.

"No," Carlisle said firmly.

We all exchanged calculating looks.

"I'm no use here," I said, waving a dismissive hand. "I'll do everything in my power to help if you'll allow me."

Carlisle relented easily. "Very well." He spoke lowly again as he led us through the crowd. "We'll take a rear exit in order to travel by foot. Haste is required."

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><p><strong>Sorry for the cliffhanger. When things start happening quickly, like now, they're semi-unavoidable. If you leave a review, it will help me update sooner! Your feedback really encourages me.<strong>

**Next time: "Double Vision"  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>


	53. Chapter 49: Double Vision

**Thank you so much for reviewing, XxTwistedIvyxX****, Insanity is my second name, TeamComrade11, bonniebeast, misstwilightprincess, and Jane! And for the fav,**** sunshinekitties. You guys are amazing.  
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**Here's where Part 4 gets serious. Enjoy reading this new chapter.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 49: Double Vision<strong>

_December 22, 1941, 11:04 p.m._

_Detroit, Michigan_

Tracking Edward through the city was difficult. His initial route began on the building's rooftop, traveling from roof to roof in a westerly direction. However, when the trail veered down to the alleyways and through the streets, his scent became mixed with a thousand others, deceiving our senses. Among the three of us, Rosalie's senses were the most acute, so we relied on her to lead us. But when we finally reached the rural outskirts of Detroit, even I was able to detect Edward's trail... as well as three other unfamiliar scents.

"Nomads," Carlisle determined, running his hand over a faint shoe imprint on the frosty ground. We had reached a large grass field, about ten acres in size, flanking a small neighborhood. A dark forest stood beyond the field; all four trails led directly into it. "They're common to this area."

I peered through the dark night, hugging my bare shoulders to keep from shivering. We hadn't been spotted leaving the city, but I wondered if the scene looked strange to humans passing by – three well-dressed individuals debating on entering a strange forest. The choice was clear to me. "We must follow them," I said gravely. "If Edward is outnumbered in combat he will be in danger."

"Agreed," Rosalie consented, nodding eagerly.

Carlisle appeared hesitant. "There are too many unknowns. We may endanger ourselves as well by walking into this situation." His eyes carefully scanned the perimeter of the woods, but the dense foliage prevented any visual investigation. "For all we know, Edward might have already moved on."

"An ambush is unlikely, Carlisle," Rosalie said pointedly, interpreting his words. "Nomads don't set traps."

Carlisle's face hardened. "Even so."

I considered the situation. Carlisle was right – there were too many unknowns for a frontal assault. If I'd leaned one thing about combat, it was to never underestimate your opponent. However, in this case, swift action was necessary since Edward was alone and outnumbered. _How could he let himself get into this situation? If only... _I snapped my fingers when a thought struck me. "What about Alice? She didn't seen anything in our futures this evening."

"What are you implying?" Carlisle asked.

"If we were _truly_ in danger, she would have seen something in advance," I said carefully.

"Not necessarily," he countered. "Alice's ability is based on decisions and outcomes. If fact, it's strange that she didn't see this very conversation."

"She didn't see it _because_ this decision doesn't effect our futures. By that logic, we'll find Edward no matter what we decide."

He wasn't convinced; his tone was condescending. "That leaves quite a lot to the imagination, Cornelia."

I sighed in frustration. "You won't even consider it?"

"At the moment, we need a reliable strategy that will help fight our enemy. Not an assumption based on unsound information."

I sniffed in disbelief. "You don't trust Alice," I stated.

Temper flashed through his eyes. "Alice isn't here."

"Ha!" I said indignantly, "then maybe we should go find _her_ instead of Edward!"

He sighed, putting his hand on my shoulder as though I needed to be controlled. "We need to keep our wits about us if we are to –"

"Where is Rosalie?" I interrupted, stepping away from him. My eyes darted around as I turned in a circle, finding nothing but trees, houses, and darkness. Taking a deep breath through my nose, I found that her scent led directly into the forest. Had I been so engrossed in our argument that I hadn't noticed her slip away?

Carlisle must have been thinking the same thing as his eyes followed her footsteps. "Rosalie...," he whispered, shaking his head. "We need to move quickly if we're to catch her."

"Yes," I said, forgetting my argument. My pride stung when I realized that I was probably wrong. _Edward _is_ in danger._

"Can you run?" Carlisle asked, his eyes quickly sweeping my legs.

"Yes," I repeated, reaching down to take the slippers from my bare feet. I secured them in my handbag, which I had managed to keep on my person. The frosty grass was cold and wet beneath my toes as I crouched to run. I was thankful for the clear night – the moon lit the ground ahead quite clearly. "I'm ready."

As we entered the forest following Rosalie's trail, I easily kept pace with him; I could tell he was holding back for my sake. Due to this, I pushed myself faster. We made little noise in the cold, silent night, save for my occasional stumbles. As the minutes slipped by, I became progressively more concerned for both Edward and Rosalie. Depending on the three strangers' abilities, the two might not even stand a chance together.

"Forgive me," Carlisle suddenly said.

I glanced over to him for half a second, carefully keeping my balance at the quick pace. I couldn't gage his expression in such a small time. "What now?" I sighed.

"I shouldn't have contradicted you in front of Rosalie," he explained.

Shaking my head at his foolish thoughts, "You apologize too much, Carlisle," I said.

"Only because you don't accept them," he retorted dryly.

When I glanced over a second time, I found that he was looking back. His eyes, yellow in the moonlight, were ridden with conflict. I focused on the path ahead once again, chuckling softly when I imagined what would happen if I pushed him just then. _He would stumble... maybe even trip and fall. _Still smiling, I said, "They're just words."

I sensed that he was unsatisfied with the response, yet he remained silent for the next several minutes. Even though we weren't on even terms at the moment, we were united in our need to find the others. _That is our priority, not his silly games._

We both slowed to a trot when Rosalie's scent veered to the side. Upon closer investigation, another scent, one of the nomads' no doubt, joined hers at a certain point. My jaw clenched tight when I spotted the mess of crushed grass and broken leaves – there had been a struggle not long ago. Fortunately, the culprit had left a very clear trail behind, leading to the north. A second unidentified scent led away in the opposite direction.

"We should have heard something...," Carlisle mused, kneeling to investigate the scene.

I held my chin pensively as I analyzed the situation. Something about the evidence didn't quite add up. Edward's disappearance, the three foreign scents that didn't quite enter the city, Rosalie's irrational separation... "I don't think we've encountered ordinary nomads, Carlisle. This almost seems... planned."

"You think they've been captured?" he suggested, rising. "That they're holding them as some sort of leverage?"

I nodded, seeing that our train of thought was much the same. "We should separate, follow each trail," I suggested, pointing in either direction. Rosalie had most likely been carried off by her attacker, and I had a feeling that Edward was at the end of the other trail.

Just like before, he was unyielding to agree. "Are you sure that's wise –?" he stopped suddenly, realizing his repeated behavior. "Be sure to call for help if you need it," he said, pointing me toward the second, less-chaotic path.

Chuckling, I waved a hand in front of myself, using my ability to summon a small, misty shield that quickly faded. "You, too."

After about a mile of tracking the second scent, I felt grateful that Carlisle had taken the first. My trail was easy to follow and relatively straight, allowing me to move at my maximum speed. The scent which I followed was completely unfamiliar to me, but it was distinctly masculine and unusually strong, eluding to an older vampire. This fact worried me – should a conflict arise, he may have superior combat experience.

_Just a few hundred yards now. _I pushed myself faster when I caught a slight gust of Edward's scent. The presence I had been searching for was almost within sight. _There!_

I screeched to a stop when I recognized the figure among the trees. Edward stood there with his back turned to me, causing me to released my caged breath. Relief flooded me as I walked toward him, but then, confusion. _His is the exact scent I was tracking... no doubt about it. _My footsteps slowed as trepidation filled me. "_Edward!_" I called to him in a hushed voice. When his head turned to the side in response, I froze completely.

His eyes gleamed ruby red in the moonlight.

I strafed backwards, unsure of how to react. His eyes were not his own, though his face, hair, and clothes were exactly how I'd seen them just hours ago. "Edward...," I whispered quietly, questioning my own sanity. I couldn't form a rational thought.

"Yes," he said, exactly how Edward would sound in the situation – calm, though slightly surprised. He turned to me fully and smiled.

_Edward never shows his teeth when he smiles. _I planted my feet securely when he began nearing me, sensing the danger that surrounded him. His eyes flashed with pleasure at my subtle movements. "Edward, stop," I ordered, holding up a hand.

He did not obey; his steps became faster. "Are you well?"

I unclenched my fists and gathered my fingers, preparing to use my ability. I didn't want to harm him – in fact, I couldn't force myself to harm him – but I would react accordingly if he wasn't fully himself. "Stop!" I shouted.

He stopped an uncomfortable ten feet away, and frowned at my behavior. "I'm only trying to help you. I want to take you somewhere safe," he insisted calmly, holding out a beckoning hand. "Come with me."

Holding my stance, I narrowed my eyes and tried to form a freezable plan. After a moment of thought, the solution was evident. A test. "Edward, what am I thinking right now?" I asked coldly. _My name is Cornelia,_ I thought pointedly. _I was born in 1778 to a mother I never knew, and a father who abandoned me in infancy. I was raised by a human named Martha._

"You're thinking that the situation is more dangerous than it appears. And you're right. So, come with me." He stepped closer, hand still stretched towards me.

I gnashed my teeth. _Impostor!_

"Stay away from him, Cornelia!" I heard Edward's voice say, even though his mouth didn't move. I gasped, searching thirstily for the source of the voice. Behind the impostor, standing at the top of a steep slope, was none other than Edward Masen. His eyes were a deep amber color.

I denied the truth even though it stood right in front of me. Two Edwards stared angrily at each other, one with red eyes and one with gold. My mind babbled at me incoherently, telling me that my eyes were deceiving me. I rose my hand and rubbed it across my eyes, making sure my vision wasn't doubled from moisture. No, I saw the two of them with perfect clarity.

In my moment of disorientation, I hadn't noticed that the red-eyed impostor drew progressively closer. Not until his hand fell violently across my face did I realize that I stood there defenseless. My head throbbed with the force of the blow, but it hadn't been enough to knock me off my feet. I jumped back about twenty feet and rose a defensive barrier between him and me. His next attack was fully blocked by the shield, which reflected the force outward and caused him to stumbled back.

"Curse you," he spat, regaining his footing on the uneven forest floor. Through the soft haze of my shield, his face suddenly became blurry, causing me to doubt my vision once again. But no, his facial features shifted, distorted, and soon Edward's face was replaced by a new one. The impostor's true features wore a scornful glower, which accentuated the sharpness of them. The tailored suit hung loosely on his gaunt frame, and his black, wispy hair drifted across his eyes. The only feature that remained unchanged was his violent, burgundy irises. He scoffed reproachfully. "You won't be so lucky for long. Donovan's – ouf!"

His words were cut short when Edward slammed into his back. The loudness of the collision hurt my ears, causing my shield to fall in the distraction. I stood to my feet and watched the two struggle for dominance on the ground. Anger blazed through my veins as I stared at the black-haired man. _How could I be tricked by such a strange ability? _He had taken Edward's exact form as his own, all except the eye color. I'd never before seen such power outside the Volturi.

I clenched my fist and extended a long, thin shield directly from my wrist. Raising the sword-like extension to scrutinize it, I considered how accurate the weapon could be. Renata had continuously encouraged me to use this technique in our training sessions, but I hadn't tested it in actual combat. I recalled her chilling, solemn voice, saying, _"Don't always think in terms of defense, Cornelia. Your ability can also be a deadly attack."_

Edward appeared to be significantly weaker because of the injury on his shoulder – a long gash that had bled through the white material of his shirt before fully healing. The impostor obviously had the upper hand when it came to speed and strength. However, due to Edward's telepathy, he was able to determine and react to his opponent's planned attacks ahead of time. I watched with thinning patience. _He can't maintain this for very long._ Though I was averse to fighting alongside an ally, which was something I rarely did, I readied myself to intervene.

"Edward, duck!" I shouted, charging headlong for the impostor. Seeing my intension beforehand, Edward obediently dove to the ground. I flung my long shield through the air, giving the attack a wide range for error. The impostor was caught off guard, but still managed to dodge the attack at the last second. My "sword" grazed his shoulder minutely, severing a few strands of his hair and shredding his coat.

He watched me with careful eyes as he crouched lithely to the ground, obviously considering a counter-attack. I didn't give him the chance; I hurled the shield toward him in the spear-like manner, forcing him to withdrawal once again. The weapon impacted the ground heavily, leaving a small crater in its wake as it vanished from sight. I summoned a new one.

The impostor surprised me with an amused laugh. "Too slow," he taunted, standing to his feet casually. His stance suggested that he no longer considered us a threat.

I felt Edward close at hand, so I held back my next attack. "Who are you?" he asked the vampire, baiting the information to his mind. "Darius...," he growled, causing the impostor to balk in surprise. "Why are you here, Darius?"

"Darius" simply shook his head. "Your tricks will not work on me, weakling," he spat, snickering. "I am superior on every level."

My heart jumped when I sensed another vampire approaching. The other two sensed it as well; especially Darius, who let out a feral hiss that sent shivers down my spine. He suddenly bolted away through the trees, quickly disappearing from sight. "No," I whispered, making to run after him. _Carlisle and Rosalie..._

"Let him go," said a voice from behind. "There's no stopping this now."

I whirled around at the familiar voice. "Isaac!" I exclaimed, overcome by confusion. I couldn't imagine how the Volturi could possibly be involved with the situation. Isaac stood about fifty feet away, his charcoal cloak tattered by harsh elements, his hair sprinkled with an array of twigs and leaves. My quick approach was halted by Edward, who seized my arm securely.

"Who is he?" he demanded, glaring at Isaac accusingly. "Is he with the others?"

"No, he's not," I explained carefully, prying his grasp from my elbow. "He's a member of the Guard, Edward. I met him in Volterra."

"That's right... you _have_ met me at this point," Isaac mused, tapping his chin. "1941," he added distractedly.

His odd behavior baffled me greater still. "Isaac, why are you here? Is anyone else with you?" I asked. _No, I'm sure I would have recognized their scents._

"I'm alone, Cornelia. The Volturi as you know them have nothing to do with the situation at this point," he said. "You obviously don't remember my appearance two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago...?" I racked my mind for the memory, but found nothing.

Edward stepped toward Isaac cautiously, wearing a befuddled expression, and then rested a hand directly on his shoulder. After a few moments of silence, during which Isaac tried to step away, Edward whispered, "I can't hear you... I can't –"

"Yes, well, that's just a precautionary measure," Isaac said, extracting himself from Edward's grasp. "My mind is blocked to _any_ telepathic power, in fact."

Both Edward and I were staggered. "How?" we asked in synchronization.

Isaac growled something to himself, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. The debris from his brown locks fell to the ground at his feet. "I should stop before I've said too much. Just know that I'm here to help make a change. To prevent you from becoming something... you don't wish to be," he said, directing his words at me.

"Something I don't wish to be...," I repeated quietly, trying to understand. I studied Isaac carefully, from his unpolished boots to his torn collar. His eyes were dim carmine, implying that he hadn't hunted human life for quite some time. There was something _different_ about his eyes since last I'd seen him in Volterra – something new. "Isaac, what happened to you?" I asked slowly.

He sighed, letting his hand fall to his side. Edward waited just as eagerly as I did for his answer. "Aro has given me specific instructions. They must be followed..." He scowled to himself, as though making a difficult decision. "But I also require your trust."

I nodded surely. "You have my utmost confidence."

Isaac glanced to Edward momentarily, receiving the same assured nod. "I have been sent from the year 1993," he began, watching our reactions closely. "My purpose is to stop the global crisis that will lead to the eventual destruction of the human race. If I fail..." His eyes became distant, filling with dread. "I simply must not fail."

_That's over fifty years from now._ I remained silent as I processed this information. It seemed unbelievable, but then again, Isaac's ability itself seemed unbelievable when Heidi first informed me of it. "What is this 'crisis'?" I finally asked.

Isaac was surprised by my mediocre response, but continued eagerly nonetheless. "If history continues on its current path, you, Cornelia, will become apart of a radical group of immortals," he said, waving his hand in the direction the Darius had taken. "They _will_ change you. Nothing I can say at this point will deter that future, however..."

"One moment," Edward interrupted. "Are you implying that you and Cornelia have had this conversation before? Two weeks ago?"

"Yes, several other times," Isaac replied, "but they have all failed. I hope that this encounter will be different, since the beginning of the end is close at hand." He again gestured to Darius' path.

"So, I can assume that 'Darius' is apart of this 'radical group', then?" I inferred. Isaac nodded solemnly, causing me to disbelieve his story all the more. _I would never join the likes of him._

"Right," Edward agreed with my thoughts, turning to Isaac. "I cannot imagine a situation in which Cornelia joined such a group. Much less take part in a 'global crisis'," he accused harshly.

Isaac shook his head despondently. "You may chose to believe my words or not, but know this –" he broke off suddenly, jerking his head to the side. I followed his eyes to a nearby tree, but I saw nothing out of the ordinary. "Darius must have told them where to find us," he said under his breath.

"What?" I breathed, glancing between his fearful gaze and the tree. "Told who?"

Before I could blink, a shadowy cloud began to form about the tree. It played tricks on my eyes as it shifted, gaining shape and dimension. The cloud quickly changed in texture, becoming a narrow, unrecognizable passage. It revealed two – no, three – figures within. They suddenly burst forth from the darkness, which closed behind them like a door on a hinge. The three scents were the very ones that we had been tracking; Darius stood between the two new vampires. I detected Carlisle and Rosalie's scents slightly, implying that they had at least laid a hand on the two elusive newcomers.

"Matter displacement," Isaac whispered, his chilly fingers closing around my wrist. He tugged me away from the threesome. "A dangerous ability. Stay back."

I stumbled back limply, too focused on the two ancients flanking Darius. Much like the three Volturi brothers, their scents were overpowering and their auras emitted years upon years of experience. The one on the left stared blankly ahead, barely noticing Isaac, Edward, and I. However, his scarlet eyes were bright and clear, and his cropped, black hair was arranged almost stylishly. The one on the right was nearly the opposite – his eyes pierced mine like the hungry stare of a viper, poised to strike at any moment. His translucent hair fell about his shoulders in long, ashen stands, glowing the same color of the moonlight.

My breath was stolen from me, due to their sudden appearance and Isaac's unnerving news. I felt as though the fair-haired ancient captivated my entire attention, so when I spoke, my shaky question was directed to him. "Who a-are you?"

He sneered in delight. "I am Vladimir."

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><p><strong>Enter, the Romanian coven. I hope you will enjoy this plot twist as much as I do. In the meantime, please review! Your comments will help me update sooner.<strong>

**Next time: "Taken"  
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**-Scarlet  
><strong>


	54. Chapter 50: Taken

**Thanks for the reviews, misstwilightprincess, bonniebeast, and Insanity is my second name****!  
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**This plot-line is the second and last major break from canon in this story. After reading about the Romanians in the "Official Illustrated Guide," I was disappointed with their pathetic appearance at the end of ****_Breaking Dawn_****. So, this is my tribute to their awesomeness, which I thought was cruelly ignored in the book series. I kept their appearance and history, but of course, modified their behavior and attributes for my own take. I hope you can forgive me.**

**Enjoy this new chapter; it's a bit darker than usual.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 50: Taken<strong>

_December 23, 1941, past midnight_

_Outskirts Detroit, Michigan_

_My breath was stolen from me, due to their sudden appearance and Isaac's unnerving news. I felt as though the fair-haired ancient captivated my entire attention, so when I spoke, my shaky question was directed to him. "Who a-are you?"_

_He sneered in delight. "I am Vladimir."_

The name struck me like a blow to the stomach. I had studied the Volturi's history with Santiago, my self-professed instructor, during my stay with them. In 400 A.D., Vladimir and Stefan had grown their coven to such power that they rivaled the Volturi's authority for a full hundred years. This period, which was called the Romanian and Volturi War, ended with the Volturi's inevitable victory. However, the conflict certainly left its mark. What remained of the Romanian coven disappeared shortly thereafter, assumed to have died off. When Demetri entered the Guard in the 19th century, even he could not locate the survivors – they were assumed long extinct.

Yet, there stood before me the leader himself, Vladimir, and who I assumed to be his second-in-command, Stefan. I couldn't imagine that Darius was also over one-thousand years old, but the possibility was strong. Fear penetrated every inch of me, sinking in along with the cold truth: we stood no chance against these notorious legends.

"This is her, then, Vladimir?" the dark-haired ancient asked flatly. His voice, though heavily accented, held no expression whatsoever.

"Yes," Vladimir replied, his smile becoming truly amused as he addressed his comrade. His features were strangely soft for such a gruesome history; I could not picture him in the bloody, lengthy war from which I knew him. "This is her, Stefan."

"Stay back," Isaac warned again, motioning to both Edward and I. Though the trio of newcomers didn't move an inch, Isaac grew progressively more anxious about the situation. I shared his concerns tenfold.

"Isaac Volturi is with her, my lord," Darius said lowly, his tone reverent as he spoke to his leader. "I will kill him by your command."

"No," Vladimir ordered his subordinate. "We needn't complicate things further. Leave him be... for now."

Isaac positioned himself in front of me defensively, his lip curled back over his teeth. "Cornelia, listen very carefully," he growled, his words barely audible above the snarls in his throat. "The next time you see me, you must tell me this: 'The past will rewrite the future.'"

My panicked state of mind couldn't understand his strange request; it was busy deciding between a fighting or fleeing stratagem. "Wh-What?"

"Say it: 'the past will rewrite the future,'" he instructed hurriedly.

"Th-The past..." I forced myself to take a labored breath and say the words. "The past will rewrite the future."

Vladimir chuckled at Isaac's attempt to protect me, a low, menacing sound on the back of his tongue. "You are not a threat alone, boy. Stand aside." He took several steps forward, followed closely by Stefan and Darius.

I was paralyzed with fear. "Isaac..." My voice faltered heavily, forcing me to swallow before speaking. "Isaac, do as he says," I murmured feebly.

"Never," he hissed, standing his ground like a fool.

My heartbeat raced in my ears as I watched the three draw closer still. "They'll kill you..."

Just as the words left my mouth, a long projectile punctured Isaac's body squarely in the chest. The metal poked through his back, glistening in the moonlight with the stain of red. Isaac fell to his knees and howled in pain, painting the ground beneath him with think, dark blood. I stepped away in horror as another metal shard sank into his shoulder, then his abdomen. I then recognized the three flying weapons as long, jeweled –

"Swords?" I gasped, unmoving with fright.

Wrenched screams filled the forest as sword after sword tore through Isaac's flesh. Tears filled my eyes to the brim as I witnessed the most horrific thing I'd ever seen. Soon it was over, silence falling once again, just as quickly as it began. I turned my eyes away from the decapitation, but the image of Isaac's mutilated body was severely imprinted on my mind.

I caught sight of the gemmed sword in Vladimir's hand just before it disappeared from sight. My breaths came thick and fast as I felt myself quickly slipping into hysterics. _This isn't happening! This _can't_ be happening!_

"It seems that your other friend has deserted you, sweet. Won't you come along?"

Vladimir's beckoning tone sent me over the edge. I collapsed to the forest floor, clutching my trembling shoulders as waves of fear engulfed me. I faintly mumbled something that even I couldn't recognize. After the tenth time of repeating the same phrase, I finally heard myself whisper, "Stay away."

I felt their presences near me until one was close enough to speak directly into my ear. "Come along, then," the voice said, followed by a firm hand placed on my shoulder.

Then, wind. It felt as though I was pulled away from the earth by the strongest, coldest wind I'd ever known, multiplied by a factor of four. I saw nothing to grab hold of in the darkness that suddenly fell around me, save for the hand on my shoulder. My body felt weightless in the dark space, held down by nothing and tossed about like a child's toy. This continued for many uncountable seconds... minutes, even?

Eventually, gravity and light were forcefully thrust upon me, disorienting me with their sudden intensity. I stumbled on my feet without realizing I actually stood, and flopped to the cold ground in a heap. My arms and legs refused to meet my commands, my head spun with dizziness, and my vision swam in front of me. I laid there, desperately helpless, until someone tugged me into a sitting position. Blinking and breathing, I waited until my senses returned to me.

As my vision cleared, I saw a straight row of similarly dressed men and women, about fifteen altogether, each with their crimson eyes set on something behind me. The ground beneath me was thickly-carpeted stone; I didn't recognize the vast room in which I found myself. The plain architecture was unlike anything I'd seen, and the unusually low ceiling gave me the distinct feeling of confinement. The only light originated from the large sets of candlesticks scattered around the room, mounted on the walls, and hanging from the ceiling. I turned my head to see an oddly placed table – a long table laden with foreign dishes and fragrant foods – surrounded with unoccupied chairs. Just two chairs, the ones at the head and foot of the table, were taken by the unmistakable figures of Vladimir and Stefan.

"You..." I rubbed my damp cheek with the back of my hand, pushing myself off the ground with the other. Wobbling on my feet, I tried to regain equilibrium after the jarring experience. It proved difficult.

"Displacement is rather awkward the first time," Vladimir said consolingly, motioning for me to join him at the head of the table. "Especially over such a distance. Quite frankly, I'm surprised you're still conscious... Most humans don't long survive the affair."

I tightened my fists as my mind fully returned to me, rooting my feet to the ground. "I am not human," I said with bated breath.

Vladimir's bright, scarlet eyes flashed with approval. "But of course," he snickered.

My eyes narrowed involuntarily, but then widened when I remembered Issac's dreadful end. "Isaac," I whispered roughly, devoid of my previous fear. It was replaced by anger – the need for vengeance.

"So quick to wrath," Stefan noted impartially, his inhuman gaze on Vladimir rather than me. I recognized his as the voice that had spoken in my ear. "An inadmissible quality, Vladimir."

"Not entirely," Vladimir negated, rising slowly from his seat. His movements again reminded me of a snake's – restrained and graceful, yet potentially fatal. Much like before, his unwavering attention pulled me into his dangerous stare to the point where I simply could not look away.

I remained still as he neared me, preparing myself for whatever followed. "Why are you doing these things?" I breathed in disbelief, resisting my instinct to flee.

"Aren't you more curious as to where you are?" he asked, his tone like the smoothest poison.

His question threw me off-balance. Quickly taking in my surroundings once again, I gleaned nothing more than I had the first time. Stefan's ability of "matter displacement," as Isaac had warned me of, was just as mysterious to me as the room in which I stood. _How far could we have traveled?_

Vladimir answered my unspoken question. "This is our place of origin, currently called Greater Romania. We occupy a small, unnamed stronghold in southern Muntenia."

My heart sank at the news, but questions began surfacing in my mind all the same.

He studied my expression carefully, as though trying to read my mind. "Worry not. The humans' war – or anything else of the sort – cannot reach this place."

"Return me," I demanded weakly, holding his gaze. "I will not become your prisoner."

Surprise washed over his face. "I would never dream of it. You are no prisoner here, but an honored _guest_."

The way his tongue curled around the word "guest" left me feeling quite unsettled. I couldn't decide how to respond to such absurdity, so my mouth simply hung agape for several long moments.

Vladimir seemed amused by my discomposure. "As any good hosts, we will treat you with the same amount of respect that you show us. All your needs will be met, and more."

I saw through his pretense of generosity; I saw beyond the lightheartedness in his eyes. The image of Isaac's death reminded me that I was speaking with potentially the most dangerous man on the face of the earth. However, this fact made me forget that the situation required tact and levelheadedness, so I carelessly snapped, "What do you want from me?"

He smiled innocently, speaking with informality. "We only require a few moments of your attention, sweet. We would like to make you a small proposition... a simple request. The choice to decide favorably or unfavorably is yours alone."

The security his words offered was false, but I chose to cling to it nonetheless. My skepticism remained at the ready, warning me against fully trusting them, but compliance seemed to be the only option in sight. "Very well," I said. "I will hear you."

His eyes, which portrayed his every emotion with shocking clarity, brightened at my response. His hand hovered behind my elbow as he led me to a seat at the table, the seat to the right-hand of the head. The row of minions, Darius included, stood at the opposite end of the room, watching my every move. I felt trapped between them, Vladimir, and Stefan, knowing that any one of them could easily take my life.

As I sat, I noticed that my white dress had been smudged with mud from the forest. Turning my head, I found that my hair had fallen from its pins and now trailed down my back. I knew my face was dirty with tears and sweat. _Perhaps I don't look as young as Rosalie thought any longer. _Slightly comforted by this thought, I gravely turned my attention to Vladimir as he began to speak.

"Judging by your previous reaction to our arrival, you are familiar with who we are, yes?"

I nodded minutely. His knowledge of the information seemed harmless.

His next question was spoken slower, more deliberately. "And you discovered our history during your time with the Volturi coven, yes?"

Trying to hid my surprise, "How do you know that?" I asked quietly.

His smile was not as hidden and sugar-coated as before. "Similar to how I know that you were born in the year 1778, how I know that your mother did not die simply in childbirth. With the right amount of patience and curiosity, Cornelia, there are no secrets in the world."

My name on his lips, as well as his mention of my mother, set my temper ablaze. I took a small, cautious breath and put effort into keeping my voice level and controlled. "You have not right to –"

I stopped suddenly when his hand's movement on the table caught my eye. A small, lavish tea saucer appeared beneath his hand, from seemingly nowhere, followed by an equally decorated teacup. The china had originated from his fingertips, pulled out by what appeared to be an invisible force –the force of his own mind. It simply _began_ to exist. I marveled at the power, and hungered to see more.

"Tea?" he offered, lifting a small, matching teapot to the newly-formed cup. The soft fragrance of steaming tea called to me as he poured a small amount. He pushed the saucer closer and encouraged me to drink with a generous smile.

I wanted to reach out and touch the cup to confirm its existence, but my rational mind warned me to stay away. The swords that destroyed Isaac, a dear friend, originated from the same place as the pretty teacup. To drink from it, or even touch it, would be an insult to his sacrifice. Vladimir watched me closely as these thoughts passed through my head, and I momentarily feared that he might see them.

"We are more alike than you think," he continued, reclining in his seat nonchalantly. Although I would assume that _your_ gift has a near-constant supply of energy, whereas mine must be" – he touched the golden rim of an empty water flask and I watched in fascination as the material slowly dissolved into his fingertips – "replenished according to demand," he finished with a chuckle.

I couldn't help myself – I lunged toward the space where the flask had once been. The satin tablecloth was cool beneath my fingers, not a trace of matter on the surface. I blinked as Vladimir withdrew his hand, trying to rationalize what I'd just witnessed. "Your ability...," I began, sitting once again.

"My ability allows me to create and absorb matter at will. The concept is fairly familiar to you, no?" he asked charmingly, his tone light.

I watched his dancing eyes with careful consideration. _We are nothing alike. We will never be alike. _"What do you want from me?" I repeated coolly.

"Your trust," he stated simply, as though he'd anticipated my response. "We can offer you much more than the Volturi ever could. Power, happiness... family." The corner of his lips turned up at the word.

My shoulders tensed. "I already have family."

"_Is that so?_" Vladimir challenged, rising abruptly from his seat. His eyes threatened me as he circled the table to stand beside my seat. "With whom? The weaklings who abandoned you a short time ago? The Volturi who didn't stand by you in your deepest time of need? Is _that_ what you call 'family'?"

"I..." My teeth clenched together when I couldn't find an adequate retort, eyes downcast.

"If so, sweet, you have not truly experienced the word." I flinched when his rough, chilly fingers took hold of my chin, angling my head back to meet his imploring gaze. "Consider us, a family that has stood the test of millenia, the test of war, hardship, and injustice. We are a powerful and united coven with righteous goals, with a taste and drive for freedom. For justice."

My skin under his fingers felt on fire, and that flame spread further through my body with each word spoken. Every word seemed as though it was plucked from my own heart, appealing to me on the deepest level. However, the mouth from which they were spoken was the very opposite.

I stood from my seat, breaking away from his repulsive touch, and stepped away until I was comfortable with the distance between us. "I know about you as well, Vladimir," I said, raising my chin as I vocalized his name for the first time. "I know about your desire for power, for conflict, for human suffering. I know about your tactics in war, that you would be willing to sacrifice your own forces – your 'family' – for even an inch of territory. I know about your goals, and they are _not_ righteous." My breathing was ragged and my words filled with hate, but my heart and mind pushed me onward. "You are the embodiment of all that I despise," I finished purposefully.

My host's eyes emptied of patience at my final statement. All the pleasantness was wiped clean from his face and replaced with pure vexation. I slowly stepped back with seconds thoughts of my boldness. "I see," he said calmly, subtly adjusting his posture. "I see that some convincing is in order."

His empty hand made a quick maneuver, and I reflexively caught what was tossed at me. The gilded hilt of a steel sword rested in my hand, the chilled metal tingling my skin. I looked up to see Vladimir sporting a similar weapon, and my mind instantly wandered back to Isaac. Holding the sword tightly at my side, I felt the need for revenge rise up again.

A sudden laugh echoed through the long room, bouncing off the low ceiling and deep corners. Stefan observed the two of us from his seat at the table with a bemused expression. "What do you intend to do, Vladimir?" he asked quizzically.

Vladimir's eyes burned with delight at Stefan's remark. "Only what is necessary..." He rose his blade and pointed the sharp tip in my direction with a swordsman's technique. "Cornelia," he addressed, nodding his head.

_Is he allowing me the first strike?_ I gripped the sword clumsily, trying my best to mimic Vladimir's stance and skill. I'd never fought with a longsword before – it seemed an unnecessary weapon to beings whose strength surpassed that of the steel. However, the same metal had penetrated Isaac's body with surprising ease. _Is it some special mineral that only he can produce? Unlikely._ With enough velocity and accuracy, I decided, even a vampire's hardened flesh can be severed by metal.

"Cornelia," he repeated. "Begin."

I frowned deeply. _This is absurd._ Sliding my feet apart, I held my sword in front of my chest, preparing to make a fool of myself. As I charged forward swiftly, the last thought on my mind was the fact that I was rushing toward a weapon that could easily cut me. He blocked my first inexperienced hack with a flick of his wrist, sending my blade clattering to the ground. As I reached for it, I felt the fiery sensation of metal slicing through my flesh. I cried out and grasped my shoulder blade, which was already slick with blood. I felt the blood trickle down my spine and soak the material of my dress.

Our small audience exchanged low murmurers as I gripped the sword's hilt with my right hand and lifted it again. Fortunately, Vladimir's slash fell on my left shoulder, leaving my right arm unhindered. The wound was shallow, but it punctured an artery that bled like a fountain. I heard a drop of blood fall to the carpet below as Vladimir readied his now-crimson blade.

_No more careless mistakes,_ I promised myself.

"That smell...," I heard one of the henchmen whisper, "I could breath it in for days."

I steeled myself against distractions and focused on the task in front of me. Vladimir was enjoying every moment; I saw the pleasure in his eyes as he began to circle me. I countered his steps with small adjustments to my posture, settling for a defensive approach. _What does he wish to achieve by this? If anything, this makes him my enemy all the more._

He began his attack with small parries here and there, which I managed to block with my sword. Each time the metal clashed loudly together, sending unwanted vibrations through my arm, rattling my bones. My heart raced as the dual continued on, the outcome uncertain. I couldn't imagine that he intended to kill me after what he'd just said, but his aggressive movements surely suggested that he did.

After blocking a particularly powerful swing, I stumbled back due to the forceful vibrations that overtook me. My guard was down, and Vladimir took full advantage of this. He thrust quickly at the vulnerability, knowing I couldn't raise my sword to block in time. I panicked, and instinctively used my ability to raise a protective shield about myself. The light mist that separated us was completely impenetrable to his attacks. I caught my breath with relief and lowered my sword, steadily holding the barrier up with my sore hand.

"Ah," Vladimir sighed, withdrawing his attack. "Wonderful." He stepped around the shield, examining it, holding his weapon casually at his side. "Useful, very useful."

I turned my head to watch him, fearful to move and break my concentration. My ability encompassed me with all-pervasive protection, invulnerable and strong. I didn't speak for lack of what to say.

"Interesting," Vladimir continued, running his fingers along the shield as he went. He then faced me again, pinning my eyes with his chillingly captive gaze. "I wonder...," he mused, his hand still resting on the thin mist between us.

To my unkempt horror, the mist steadily faded as he absorbed the energy into his hand. I poured my effort into keeping the shield standing, frowning in exertion; however, with each mite of strength I put forth, ten were taken away. The inevitable occurred – I became simply too drained to sustain even a portion of my power. The shield vanished completely as I fell to my knees in weakness, gasping for breath. My sword fell beside me with a clatter.

"You _will_ know our strength, Cornelia... and you will bow to it."

My vision darkened around the edges as I stared at the blood-stained carpet beneath me. My pale hands were pressed against the dark design, fingers inflamed and sore from handling the awkward sword. Tears welled up in my chest, but my eyes remained dry due to dehydration. My fading consciousness caused time to appear to slow, or speed up – I couldn't decide which. "You...," I panted senselessly, "cannot change me... into something I don't wish to be..."

I didn't realize that he'd stooped down until I felt his breath on my shoulder, his tongue on my open wound. "But _you_ certainly can," I faintly heard him say.

Unconsciousness took me in its strong, dark grip.

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><p><strong>To review or not to review... that's your decision. I would love to hear what you think!<strong>

**Thanks for reading. Next time: "The Temptation and the Trick."  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>


	55. Chapter 51: The Temptation and the Trick

**Thank you for reviewing, ****TeamComrade11****, ****bonniebeast****, ****misstwilightprincess****, ****XxTwistedIvyxX****, ****Remmy94****, ****Preciousfreedom****, and ****Insanity is my second name****! And for the follows/favs, ****Remmy94****, ****Preciousfreedom****, and ****micheepeach****.**

**I know it seems complicated and tense right now, but truthfully, Part 4 is all about complication and tension. The next two Parts (5 & 6) will be much lighter, I promise, so please hang in there. Cornelia will for sure.**

**-Scarlet  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 51: The Temptation and the Trick<strong>

_December 24, 1941, unknown time_

_Muntenia, Greater Romania_

_The deer nipped at a small, exposed clump of grass between the snow-covered leaves of the forest. Its heartbeat was slow and powerful as I listened through the stillness of the morning. Winter birds sung in the treetops, a half-frozen creek gurgled nearby, and the movements of various wildlife searching for food – I among them – filled the woods._

_I watched the deer carefully, waiting for its attention to be drawn away so I could finally have breakfast. The Cullens rarely – if ever – entertained mortals at their estate, therefore the lack of food in the kitchen. I'd already eaten the last of their limited stock of preserved food during my week spent in their company._

_The deer's head suddenly shot upright in reaction to a nearby sound, and the animal sprinted away through the trees, deciding the threat was too large to remain. I sighed and pulled myself out of my hiding place, dusting my snowy hands together._

_The sound that had startled the deer drew closer, as did Emmett's scent, which was now familiar to me. He broke through the dense maple trees and smiled when he saw me, waving across a small, sunlit clearing. My skin shimmered faintly in the sun as I crossed the clearing, much like the glistening snow on the ground._

"_Edward sent me after this," Emmett said when I reached him, shrugging off the strap of my shoulder bag. "He gave me a list. Don't worry – I checked it twice." He grinned, causing me to chuckle._

_I took the bag, mildly surprised. Inside was a collection of essentials from my apartment, including my silver dagger and several sets of clothes. "Thank you," I said, slinging it over my shoulder. "I appreciate you taking the time, Emmett."_

"_Not a problem," he said, crossing his arms. "It gave me something to do."_

_I smiled at his response. "Are you bored very much?"_

_He shrugged, arms still crossed. "Recently, yes."_

_Sensing his unusual quietness, "Why is that?" I prompted._

_He dropped his arms and ran a hand through his curly hair, putting some thought into his next statement. "I guess I'm still getting used to the fact that I'm... frozen. I'm an adult, sure, but I'll never age, get older, die. You know?"_

_I nodded understandingly. "That's a very natural reaction, Emmett. I had similar concerns when I was young. You'll accept it in time, I suspect."_

"_That's what Carlisle says," he muttered, crossing his arms again._

_I frowned, feeling rather unoriginal. "I'm sure he shares your feelings as well."_

_Emmett's eyes suddenly lit with a thought. "So, Cornelia... what were _you_ like at my age?" he asked, grinning._

_The question surprised me. "I, um..." I couldn't help but smile when I recalled my younger self – lending my trust to anything and everything, searching for solace outside my own self, living from fight to fight. I laughed outright when I found it difficult to put my thoughts to words._

_So, I simply told him, "I was young."_

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><em>

The room I awoke in was windowless, which, along with the think stone walls, gave me the illusion of being underground. The air was stale and heavy, hinting at the stone's age, and it passed through my lungs with inefficiency. However, the bed on which I found myself was as soft as a cloud, and the sheets were silken and warm. Sleep beckoned for me to return.

Sudden memories of the previous night prevented that return. _Romania._ The horrific images of Darius, Isaac, and Vladimir made my worries in Michigan seem petty – pointless, even.

I sat up with what little energy my sleep had provided and cast off the sheets, sliding from the tall bed to the ground. Candlelight from the walls illuminated the room with an ominous orange glow, licking at the dark corners and low ceiling. My groggy senses scanned the room for signs of enemies, but found nothing. I began to relax minutely, leaning against the edge of the soft mattress. "I'm alone," I remarked, confirming my thoughts aloud to comfort myself. I reached for the back of my left shoulder, suddenly remembering the wound from Vladimir's sword. Fluffy bandages clung to my skin with strips of medical tape. I wore a light, cream-colored bathrobe; only my undergarments remained beneath it.

_Who treated me? Why was I given a place to sleep?_

I contemplated these questions as I investigated my surroundings. In contrast with the drab, gray walls, the furnishings were that of royalty. Rich, think mahogany pieces sat throughout the room, carved with intricate flowers and cherubs. I found that the dressers and wardrobes were occupied with women's clothes of all sizes and colors – a broad collection of centuries of styles. Several tables of various sizes occupied the room, some holding trinkets and vases whose golden designs were similar to Vladimir's summoned swords and dishes. The stone floor was covered with many different rugs, each different in style and cultural origin.

As I pulled my thin robe closer to my body, I noticed that my hands and arms were still muddy. In fact, my entire body was covered in some unpleasant substance. I tried to ignore the grime as I moved toward one of the room's two doorways.

The first door was made of thick oak with a locking lever-style handle. Dismantling the simple lock by crushing the hinge was easy, but I quickly discovered that the door itself was completely immobile. I pushed and pulled with all my might to no avail. _Something must be blocking it from the other side._

The second door proved much easier to pass through – there was no doorknob, so I simply pushed it open. I found a bathing room on the other side, a small room with no light whatsoever. Taking a single candle from the wall beside the bed, I stepped into the small room to explore. A long, claw-foot tub sat in the corner, which was fitted with its own manual hand pump that connected to the uncovered plumbing system. The copper tubes led to a wooden toilet in the opposite corner; a porcelain water basin flanked this, which was also connected to the sloppy plumbing.

The water ran in all three faucets when I pulled the hand pump – the toilet, the basin, and the washtub. The loud hissing from the pipes was difficult to endure, but I somehow managed to cleanse my body before it drove me completely mad. I found a stack of white linens in the cupboard near the sink, and used these to dry myself before replacing my robe. _Perhaps something from the wardrobe will suit me. _I clutched my candle and shivered as I left the awful room.

As I returned to the main room, a scent filled my nose that was like no other. The aroma was sweet and intense, occupying every nook and cranny in the room. I was drawn to the source of this wonderful smell by a strong, alluring force. Snatching up the warm goblet from a small table, I put the golden rim to my lips and tipped it back, allowing the hot liquid to flow into my mouth.

The sensation was bliss – an exciting thrill that sent my body and mind to the highest hight. It was more than ecstasy, more than any feeling I could possibly describe. I felt the taste travel through my veins, to my fingers and toes, completing me in a way that nothing and no one else could. My only regret during those few seconds was when the cup ran dry, stealing from me the addicting ambrosia. My tongue probed along the inside of the goblet, lapping up the remainder of the wonderful, think, red... blood...

I threw the cup away as though it'd burned me. My lips were heavy with the liquid, and I involuntarily licked them, sending another wave of pleasure through my body. I held my chest in grief when I fully realized what I'd done.

For the first time in my life, I drank human blood.

I covered my face in shame, feeling a violent self-hatred burst to life within me. A helpless cry broke from my lips as I collapsed to the ground in tearless remorse. _Whose blood was that? Is he now dead? Did someone kill him for your personal pleasure? Did he have loved ones? Will he be remembered? Did _you_ take his life? Are you a murderer? Did you enjoy _murdering_ him?_

"No-o," I wept in anguish, a helpless victim to my raging thoughts.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

I was left alone in those chambers for the following week. I counted the days by watching the candlewicks burn – each inch accounted for six hours. Twelve inches per candle. Fourteen candles. One-hundred sixty-eight hours. Seven days.

Every twenty-four hours, while I slept or bathed, a new goblet would appear on the table; every twenty-four hours I poured the contents down the basin drain. As the days wore on and my hunger grew, this procedure became progressively more difficult. _Just one mouthful_, my thirst would taunt me. I came very close to yielding to my thirst on several occasions, but I grew stronger by holding a towel over my mouth and nose as I disposed of the cup's contents. One morning, after the scent of fresh blood had filled my senses for hours as I slumbered, my lust for the drink was so strong that an ounce of it trickled through my lips before I caught myself. _That was strike two_, I told myself. If I knew the rules of baseball well enough, one more strike meant I was out.

I felt defiled by my mistake, and this tormented me. The innocent slip changed me; I began to mistrust myself. In those dark, silent hours alone, as I thought of who was to blame for my disgrace, I always came back to myself. However, Vladimir's telling eyes were constantly in the back of my mind, reminding me of who had put me here... trapped me here, tempted me here, tainted me here.

On the sixteenth hour of the seventh day, I decided to lay awake for the goblet's arrival. The same vampire replaced it each day – I knew this by the consistent, lingering scent that led from the barricaded door to the table. I speculated that it was one of Vladimir's followers, one of the fifteen that I'd seen the night I was taken.

Sure enough, as I pretended to sleep, the door swung open softly across the carpet. I tried to keep my breathing regular as I waited for the sound of the goblet being placed upon the table; then I could strike. _Tap! _Springing across the room, I rammed into the intruder with my shoulder, causing him to stumble back. I took the opportunity to step away and raise my hand, willing a shield to rise around him. If they could trap me, I could trap them.

But no shield came. I didn't see the rising mist, didn't feel the cool tinkling on my palms, nor did I hear the soft whoosh of my power. There was simply... nothing.

The young-looking vampire I intended to trap, who initially wore a look of utter surprise, now cowered in apparent fear. Perhaps he actually crouched to strike? The detail didn't matter to me at the time. Since my trapping maneuver failed, I moved onto the next part of my plan: escape. When I dashed for the half-open door, I felt a pair of hands on my waist, holding me back. These hands flung me back across the room; my back collided with the side of the soft bed mattress, forcing the breath from my lungs.

"I-I-I'm sorry," a small, trembling voice said. "You c-can't leave yet."

I pushed away the hair that had fallen in my eyes to look up at the vampire. The boy was young – more so than even Jane and Alec – the youngest immortal I'd yet encountered. His think, blond hair dusted his ears and forehead in tousled locks. His large eyes darted between mine and the ground, appearing strangely innocent despite their threatening shade of crimson. His ragged clothes were too large for his bone-like limbs, and appeared to be several decades out of style. His bare feet shuffled nervously on the carpet.

"Why not?" I demanded.

His eyes darted to the blood-filled goblet, and then back to mine. Fortunately, I was so focused on the boy that I didn't notice the strong scent wafting from the table. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. _Was he instructed not to tell me?_

I rose from the ground cautiously, sensing no hostility from the young child. "Who are you?" I asked in a softer tone, stepping a bit closer.

"Donovan, ma'am," he said.

The first thing that surprised me was his obvious respect and fear of me. _Has he been told to act this way? _The second was the distinct American accent in his words, similar to those of my native New England. I felt a pang of sympathy for the boy. "Are you from America, Donovan?"

His brow furrowed in confusion. "What is 'America'?"

I frowned. _He's just Vladimir's puppet. _"It's a country," I told him. "A large country beyond the sea. My home."

Donovan grew even more bewildered, and didn't speak for several seconds. "I should not talk to you," he finally said, slouching sheepishly.

"You do not wish to speak with me?" I baited him.

"I..." He frowned in frustration; I could tell he wasn't accustomed to conversation. "I do. I am... curious."

"About what?" I sat on the edge of the bed and folded my hands, an attempt at a casual pose. The boy began to relax as well, clasping his hands in front of himself rather than behind.

"Well... I wonder why it's so hard to block you. It's easy to block Marian and Darius and Johan and the others, but it's hard to block you. You're... different."

I shook my head, baffled by his strange confession. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Oh," he said despondently, his arms going slack at his sides. "Oh!" He suddenly jumped to the spot where we'd struggled and motioned to the floor. "When you tried to hurt me here, it was hard to stop you!" he said excitedly.

I then understood, and the truth chilled me to the bone. "You have the power to block others' abilities?" I assumed, earning an joyful hop from the boy. "It's probably hard for you to block mine because I'm... not like the others," I said, trying to avoid mentioning my unusual origins.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, overjoyed at my comprehension.

An involuntary smile spread on my face. I couldn't force myself to be angry with this young being, this child that brought a sinful drink to tempt me day after day. He was obviously not acting independently; he was possibly just as much a prisoner as I. "Donovan, will you tell me why I'm being kept in this room?" I asked carefully. I expected him to be more at ease after our small understanding, perhaps enough to share the information with me.

His reaction was the opposite; he rapidly shook his head. "No," he stated solemnly. "The lords –" He jumped in fear when footfalls could be heard outside the door. Terror washed over his face. "Oh, no," was all he said.

The door opened fully a moment later, revealing a stone-faced Darius. Both Donovan and I tensed for different reasons. "Donovan, out," he spat, glaring at the boy with unconcealed dislike.

With one more tentative glance in my direction, the child scampered out of the room, closing the door behind himself. The atmosphere became thick with tension as Darius stood there silently, the dim candlelight highlighting his angular features. I swallowed thickly, intimidated by his unstated intentions.

"Thirsty?" he asked, wearing the same mocking grin that I'd seen the first night in the forest.

"No," I replied, shaking my head politely.

He ran his fingers across the rim of the jeweled goblet as he passed by the table, slowly making his way toward me. "My lords are displeased with you."

My curiosity peeked. "Is that why I'm here?"

"_Still_ here," he corrected, taking the seat I'd abandoned upon his entry. "If you would simply sate yourself, this room would become unnecessary."

My jaw tightened. "I do not feed upon human blood."

"Why on earth not?"

"Taking human life is murder."

"So, you murder animals instead," he deadpanned.

His argument disgusted me, causing me to scowl. "The life of wild animals is below me."

He smiled again, knowing he'd cornered me. "As is human life."

I shook my head in denial. "You're wrong."

"And who's to say _you're_ right?"

I hesitated for a few moments, grasping for an authority that even he would respect. "Conscious," I finally said.

"_Cornelia_," he whispered beseechingly, surprising me with the use of my name. He rose and moved toward me, forcing me to step away until my back my pressed against a mahogany dresser. His close proximity unnerved me, and his locked gaze sent a chill through my body. He brought his taunting lips close to my ear and breathed, "You are a goddess."

He seized my wrist when I tried to move away, holding me in the uncomfortable position. I felt the vibration of his tempting words on my neck as his nose pressed into my hair.

"The value of human life could never _compare_ to your own, Cornelia. You are a diamond among grains of sand; a divinity among ants. They are nothing but dirt compared to you. They are cattle born to be consumed, but you and I..." He pulled away, allowing me to see a face that was not his own. It was Carlisle who smiled down at me with haunting, scarlet eyes. "We are gods."

A small shriek escaped me as I leaped away, trembling from shock. Darius laughed outright as his face shifted back to normal. I couldn't deny that he'd thoroughly terrified me; my heartbeat alone told of my unhindered panic. "Leave me," I warned in a quivering voice.

It took several hours after Darius left for my hands to stop shaking. Whenever I closed my eyes or glanced into a dark corner, Carlisle was there, smiling at me with a crimson gaze. However, I eventually calmed myself in the thought that Darius was a narcissistic fool, and I could surely best him in any fight without Donovan's inhibitions.

My knowledge of Donovan's ability brought a rational explanation to the Romanian's sudden and prolonged disappearance. Demetri's global tracking ability, along with anyone else's for that matter, must have been "blocked" by Donovan's unusual gift for a number of years. I determined that he must be able to isolate and block powers on an individual level, as it seemed that Darius and Vladimir's abilities were unhindered. He must have also allowed me access to my ability that first night, possibly as some twisted demonstration for Vladimir and Stefan. These thoughts led me to a rather disconcerting conclusion...

_If Demetri hasn't been able to find the Romanians for the past two centuries, how will he find me now?_

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><p><strong>Please review and let me know what you think.<br>**

**Next time: "Fear No Evil."  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>


	56. Chapter 52: Fear No Evil

**Thank you for the reviews, Insanity is my second name and bonniebeast. I really appreciate your consistent feedback, ladies! And thanks for the favorite, yaqueliin.  
><strong>

**Onward! Enjoy this new chapter.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 52: Fear No Evil<strong>

_January 1, 1942, unknown time_

_Muntenia, Greater Romania_

When I awoke that particular morning, I was fairly certain that it was New Year's Day in 1942. However, I was unsure of this since the candle by which I kept time had burned to its quick by the time I woke up. The time elapsed since the flame had died was a unknown to me, as was the exact date. I longed for the reliable cycles of the sky, the comforting face of the moon and sun rather than the cold surface of stone. However, this longing was for naught.

Throughout my week spent in the room, I repeatedly wondered how the Cullens were going about the situation. Had they given up hope after I simply vanished from the face of the earth? There was no reasonable way they could have knowledge of my whereabouts, unless Edward had read Stefan's mind as he was thinking of his destination. Putting myself in their situation, my first reaction would have been calling upon the Volturi. Felix had once told me that, to date, there was nothing they couldn't manage with either brain or brawn. I could only hope that this was true, and have faith that the Cullens saw the need to employ a greater power.

_But would they really stage a full-scale assault... just for you?_

Thoughts like these led me to recall Isaac's final warning. What he described was the worst case scenario, which included both the Volturi and I failing in our obligations – I succumbing to the Romanian's leadership, and the Volturi dropping the balance between their race and humankind. It was possible that my capture was a step toward another war between the Romanians and Volturi, but I couldn't imagine Isaac's future of "a global crisis that will lead to the eventual destruction of the human race." It was nearly inconceivable.

Dismissing my aimless speculations, I shuffled through several gowns that hung in the wardrobe. Most of the garments were for the wintertime – thick satin, furs, and many different layers of skirts. My hand rested on a furry, brown collar before moving to a more subdued burgundy dress. I selected a black, wool smock to wear over this, and a pair of black fur boots to keep my feet warm. It was often difficult to keep the chill of the stone walls from soaking into my skin.

If I'd thought I was weak that first night after Vladimir so effectively countered my ability, I was wrong. The human blood had given me a surge of energy, but since then, I'd grown progressively more feeble as starvation crept nearer and nearer. I felt my cheekbones deepening and my hips narrowing more each day. I slept often, but the rest did nothing to sustain me. My hunger and thirst threatened to overpower my self-control against the tempting blood which was presented to me on a daily basis.

A soft knock at the door startled me. I quickly finished fastening the brass buttons on my collar as I stepped across the room. "Donovan?" I called, coming to a halt when the young boy slipped through the door.

"H-Hello," he murmured, tentatively reaching for my hand. His small fingers curled around my own in an unexpectedly firm grip. "The lords want to see you now."

I let him guide me from the room silently. The passageways and stairwells he pulled me through were pitch-black; I was thankful that he guided us with such confidence in his direction. My steps were sluggish and shallow due to my weakened state, but Donovan didn't pay it mind. We passed by wooden doors occasionally, much like the one that confined me, which were barred with five metal latches from the outside. _No wonder I couldn't force it._

We arrived in the main hall shortly after, which appeared much different than my first visit. Sparse candles burned throughout the spacious room, offering very little light to combat the natural darkness. On the long table, the food and tea from before were gone, though the flamboyant tableware sat there empty and polished. Most prominently, the room was completely devoid of life.

Donovan led me to a chair and bid me to sit. "Is it too dark?" he asked softly, glancing around with nervousness. "Shall I lite more candles?"

"If you wish," I replied, smiling once again at his out-of-place innocence. He plucked a stump of wax from a nearby candlestick and skipped about the room, sharing the small flame with nearly every wick in sight. The room was quickly filled with yellow, flickering light. Donovan returned to the table presently, and took up a staunch post beside my seat. "Where are your lords, Donovan?" I asked, using his terminology in reference to Vladimir and Stefan.

"Arriving soon," he simply said, standing his station with unwavering diligence. "I-I was told to wait here with you," he added in a softer tone, as though sharing a secret.

I nodded. "Thank you."

His light eyebrows knit together beneath his golden locks. "For what?"

"For staying with me," I told him. "I enjoy your company."

"Oh." His expression remained confused.

I suddenly felt the urge to brush the hair away from his eyes and smooth the frown from his forehead. Worry lines didn't belong on such a young and pure face. I clasped my fingers together in my lap to keep from doing so. "Donovan," I began slowly, "do your remember your human age before you were changed?"

He began to shake his head, but stopped abruptly. "Marian changed me... maybe she knows."

I recalled seeing two female vampires among Vladimir's ranks when I first arrived; Marian must have been one of them. "How long ago did that happen?" I asked.

His nose wrinkled in thought for a moment. "When the redcoats left."

I frowned – the phrase could refer to any number of periods in American history. My curiosity about the boy grew even more. "Do you recall the year? 1700's? 1800's?" I pressed.

"I... I don't know," he said, looking at his feet in frustration. "I'm sorry."

Unable to resist any longer, I reached out and brushed my fingers across his pale cheek. He started, looking up at my with wide, fearful eyes. _He's not used to touch simply for comfort._ I withdrew my hand quickly. "No need to apologize," I said soothingly, hoping I hadn't upset him.

He quickly squared his shoulders and returned to his post, facing toward the thick, wooden doors through which we entered. They creaked open moments later, revealing a party of five. Vladimir and Stefan walked ahead, followed closely by Darius and two others I didn't recognize. I wondered if the short brunette was Marian as her red, narrowed eyes traveled between Donovan and me.

The group silently settled in their places – Vladimir and Stefan took their seats at the ends of the table, Darius flanked my other side, and the two others stood nearby, eyes trained on their leader. I suddenly realized, with a good amount of derogation, that we were in the exact seats as seven days prior... with the exact same goals.

"Welcome back," Vladimir said with obvious indulgence, his eyes burning with satisfaction.

_He knows that he has full control of the situation... I'm powerless to his will. _I didn't allow myself to show this helplessness on my face as I stared straight ahead. Not trusting of the condition of my voice, I remained silent.

Regardless of my reaction, or lack thereof, he continued, "Your willpower surprises me. Are you not famished?"

I drew a sharp breath before replying. "I refuse to take part in the consumption of human life." Fortunately, my voice was as solid as I'd hoped for. "I will not defile myself further."

"Defile?" he repeated incredulously, turning a polished, silver vase toward me.

The movement caught my eye, causing me to look in its direction. My reflection peered back at me, starved and pale, with eyes as red as blood. Only a small ring of hazel remained around the rim of my irises. My heart fell at the sight; I squeezed my eyes shut. _Of course this would happen. What did I expect?_

"You're beautiful," Vladimir cooed.

At this, my eyes snapped open to challenge his bemused gaze, narrowing of their own accord as my lip curled with contempt. "What could you possibly hope to gain by all this?" I asked provokingly.

His furtive disposition was unaffected. "I've already told you," he replied, watching my tone of voice as he slowly leaned forward. "Your trust."

His chicanery was lost on me. I stared unflinchingly as his face came mere inches from mine, his indicative, crimson eyes earnest, his lips pressed together with austere calculation. He moved away with a crystal goblet in hand, which was seemingly the sole purpose of his sudden advance. I struggled to keep my composure.

He watched my discomfort as his fingers hovered over the rim of the goblet, appearing to be an purposeless gesture. On the contrary, I watched in rapture as red liquid passed from between his fingers, filling the crystal glass with ruby gleams. _He's... creating it? _The flow stopped when he clenched his hand into a fist, the glass half-full. "It's not authentic," he said, sliding the glass toward me. I stared with unhindered disgust at the deplorable liquid. "No human life was lost. But it's chemically identical, and satisfying all the more."

Memories flashed through my mind as I witnessed this. Aro explaining the Volturi's need to enforce their laws regarding humans, _"The two of us would destroy each other without thought given the freedom to do so."_ Vladimir's bold claim just days before, _"__We are a powerful and united coven with righteous goals."_ And Isaac's warning once again, _"...the eventual destruction of the human race."_

"You don't need them...," I whispered, watching the artificial blood settle against the sides of the glass. "You'll destroy them without thought." I paid little heed to Vladimir's reaction as I slowly rose from my seat, deep in speculation. _Will he simply wage war against them? Will he take their lives completely or turn them? What is my role in all this?_

"...the best of intentions for you," Vladimir was saying. I felt Darius and Donovan close in behind me as I stepped away from the table.

My logical reason was clouded by revelation and disdain. I turned a hard glare on Vladimir. "Do you intend to use me as leverage, or some sort of weapon?" I asked icily.

He stood as well, eyes filled with patient sway. "As I said, we are your allies, Cornelia. We are forged from the same fiber, born of the same blood. We have no intent to hurt you – only to help you. Won't you think the same of us?"

"I don't believe you," I retorted, staring once again at the red-tainted goblet. "I will never believe you." My fingers rested on the edge of the tablecloth as an idea grew inside my mind. _If I drink this, I will be strong._

"I am saddened to hear that," Vladimir said, watching my fingers inch toward the fake drink. "But I am confident that we, given enough time, have the potential for friendship."

I snatched the glass suddenly, and tipped it back against my lips. The flavor was just as sweet and addicting as before, but this time I also felt the potent invigorating affect, which had been my goal from the start. The artificial blood converted my emaciation into pure energy, flowing through my veins like a stimulating drug. The glass goblet's stem broke under my powerful grip when the liquid was completely drained, causing the glass to fall to the ground and shatter. I swallowed every drop on my tongue until I could taste it no longer.

The look on Vladimir's face was truly shocked as he witnessed this, but it quickly became keen satisfaction. Not until I seized his collar in my fists did he sense my foul intentions. I slammed his back into the ground with every bit of strength in my body, fueled by my wrath. The stone beneath him split with the sound of thunder. I glared at his unwavering gloat as my grip tightened around his neck. _No... he wanted this?_

I was abruptly thrown back by a powerful impact to my chest. My breath swiftly left my lungs as I collided with the ground, my body numbed by the force. My newfound strength sustained me, however; I stood to my feet with little or no harm to my body. Surveying the situation quickly, I found that it had been the brown-haired woman who intervened. Vladimir's merry eyes observed me as he retook his seat at the table, completely unscathed.

"Marian, let our guest see her true potential," he murmured, nodding to the woman.

I had little time to debate the meaning behind the words as the woman stormed forward. Pulling away at the last second, I felt her powerful fist cut the air just centimeters from my ear. She pounced again before I could prepare an attack, this time landing a blow on my face. I staggered back from the hit, holding my fractured jawbone. I momentarily worried about the injury, but soon felt the bone mending itself back together, quicker than any other injury had my entire life. Encouraged by this, I threw myself back into combat with Marian.

The fight didn't last long. I quickly realized that she was holding back – she ignored many openings in my defense and occasionally slowed her reactions for my benefit. However, the power I'd gained from the "blood" put me on equal footing with her; I usually wouldn't stand a chance in such close combat, especially without the use of my ability.

Her last attack was a speedy fist aimed at my abdomen. Knowing that such a move would temporarily incapacitate me, I reflexively drew out a shield to intercept her blow, forgetting that I currently didn't have control over my ability. However, a thick shield followed my fingertips despite this, surprising me slightly. Her knuckles slammed into the barrier with a loud crunch, which sent a subtle flash of pain across her face. She stepped away in shock that mirrored my own.

"Donovan!" Vladimir snapped, glaring at the child.

"A-Apologies," Donovan stuttered, his worried expression contorting with humiliation. I felt my gift fade from my grasp once again as the shield before me vanished. Pity for the boy burst inside of me, even as I acknowledged him as an enemy and a threat. _Had he deliberately meant for me to defend myself?_

"That's enough, Marian," Vladimir instructed, causing the woman to retreat across the room. I stood rigidly as he approached me; his previous satisfaction had grown tenfold. "Do you not _feel_ it?" he whispered suddenly, his tone challenging. "This _power_ that you possess?"

Catching my breath enough to speak, "I am not what... you think I am," I panted, realizing that I'd exerted myself a bit too much. I drew several long breaths before saying, "I am not a weapon."

"Of course not. You are a beautiful, intelligent, experienced woman, who I would be proud to call an ally."

I glared at him as he said this; his expression was thick with flattery. "You don't know me," I said tersely, becoming frustrated with his wordplay.

"But I do," he countered, nearing me once again. "More than you know."

His potent scent, suddenly close, invaded my senses. It was heather or wheat, warmed by the sun and cooled by the moon until its first day of harvest. Though subtly pleasant, it made me hate him all the more; it helped me realize that he was truly a monster worthy of my fear. He was a demon sent to tempt me on every level possible – physically, mentally, and personally. He was my ultimate test.

Pursing my lips, I bowed my head and spit on his shoe, the most primal expression of rejection. His expression flared, but soon evened out to a smug determination. "Darius," he signaled, turning his back to me.

Darius was suddenly by my side, his hands latching onto my wrists. When I struggled and broke free, Marian also came to detain me. "Where will you take me?" I demanded as they practically dragged me out of the room. I dug my heels into the carpet to no avail; wherever they were taking me, I was going no matter what. "Where are you taking me?" I shouted in growing panic, scratching futilely at their marble flesh.

Stefan and the others watched silently as my screams faded into the dark corridors bellow.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

The drop into the room was at least sixty feet. Air whistled by my ears when Darius gave me a gentle shove from the ledge above, which appeared to be apart of an underground dungeon of some sort. As I fell, fright gripped me like a vice, stealing any sound I could possibly utter from my throat. I landed in a foot of standing water, which, fortunately, broke my fall enough so that my injuries were limited. Several bones in my feet fractured on impact, sending needles of pain up and down my legs. I cried out and fell on my face, receiving a mouthful of piquant, stagnant water. Sputtering pathetically, I dragged myself through the muck to a nearby wall and leaned against it, breathless from the jarring experience.

Powerful pulses shook the deep, dark room as I caught my breath. Like a thunderous heartbeat, the sound was consistent and throbbing. I considered this sound as the water soaked into my clothes and skin, the salty scent saturating my sinuses. It was minutes later that I realized it was the ocean, its angry waves beating against the stone wall behind me. Testing my feet, I stood cautiously and began to inspect the room. _If the ocean water found its way through this wall, there must be a crack or opening somewhere._

Then, I heard mumbling. "...for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley... of the shadow of death... I will fear no evil... for Thou art with me. Thy rod and Thy staff... they comfort me."

My splashy steps through the water froze as I listened. _The twenty-third Psalm? _Turning toward the opposite corner of the room, where the stone floor rose up out of the murky water, I gawked in amazement when I recognized the huddled, muttering figure.

"Isaac!"

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><p><strong>How is it possible that it's Isaac? Share your theories in a review! If you guess correctly, I'll use your nameusername in the next chapter somehow. Exciting, no?**

**Next time: "In the Dark."**

**-Scarlet**


	57. Chapter 53: In the Dark

**Thanks for the reviews, ****bonniebeast****, ****Preciousfreedom****, and ****Insanity is my second name****! And for the favs/follows, ****cinnamonmyra1997****, ****DreamingUntilForever11****, ****Lady Fon Slytherin****, and ****thekatie93****. ****My faithful reviewer ****bonniebeast**** was the first to answer my A/N last update, so her name was used in this chapter. Yay! *throws cheap confetti*  
><strong>

**The dream sequence in this chapter is a memory of Cornelia's captivity with James from Part 1. Big thanks to ****Insanity is my second name**** for the idea, which really happened to fit well in this chapter.**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 53: In the Dark<strong>

_January 1, 1942, unknown time_

_Muntenia, Greater Romania_

"Isaac!"

His head, which had been bowed over his drawn-up legs, bobbed up at the sound of his name. Black as night, his eyes swept across the room in slight recognition before falling to his lap again. His head drooped weakly.

Wading across the uneven floor, I stumbled over the unnatural incline to the raised oasis where he sat. The stones there, though not completely submerged, were still slick with grime and ocean water, implying that the water level rose and fell periodically. In addition to my water-logged boots, keeping my footing on the disgusting ground was difficult.

"Isaac?" I touched his shoulder, which caused him to shutter slightly. He didn't acknowledge me or respond at all, even when I gently shook him. Visions of the horrifying scene in the forest passed through my mind. There was no plausible way he could have survived Vladimir's attack. _Unless..._

"Isaac, I need you," I whispered close to his ear, earning a small response. His head turned to the side, but his eyes remained downcast. I saw nothingness in his black, abysmal eyes; I saw a complete absence of self. Studying his face further, I saw that dark blotches surrounded his eye sockets, and his skin sagged from his cheekbones. As his head fell once more, I realized what his condition must be. The realization chilled me to the core. _He's literally starving to death._

I stood and began to pace across the small and relatively dry corner. The loud, crashing waves pounded mercilessly against the room, filling my ears along with Isaac's frequent muttering of Scripture. Speculations swarmed in my head like angry bees, demanding to be acknowledged. One fact I knew for certain: I watched Isaac die in that forest. Yet, there he was, sitting and rambling like a weary, delusional monk.

After about an hour of this, I decided to put my temporary strength to action. In drinking the artificial human blood, my short-term goal had been to overpower my captors. In retrospect, however, the plan seemed utter nonsense. Who was I, one hybrid without the use of her ability, to even think I had a chance against at least twenty experienced, deadly vampires? The concept was foolish. Nevertheless, I pounded on the unmoving stone walls until my fists dripped with blood. I tried to scale them, break them, and use my ability on them to no effect. Donovan's moment of helpfulness was long past.

Retreating to the small corner with a blood-starved Isaac, I leaned against his motionless back and closed my eyes in needed sleep.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

_I awoke to the familiar sound of birdsong. It was strange, even after approximately thirty months of the same routine, to wake up to such a pleasant sound in such a terrible place. However, the sound and smell of nature helped me keep my sanity._

_James had caged me in an old war outpost – a ten-foot-deep, dug-out hole encased in thick stone and mortar. There were eight, rectangular lookout holes at ground level – two on each wall – which were originally intended for musket barrels to rest upon. Now, instead of muskets poking out from the openings, nothing other than my hands reached for the unattainable surface._

_I stood from the shallow pile of leaves that I called a bed and stretched, feeling less sore than usual. Days had passed since James fed from me, which gave the raw skin of my neck time to heal. Instead of pouring my energy into healing my wounds, I actually had a bit to spend how I saw fit._

_Digging a soiled cloth out from under my "bed," I stepped across the small room to where James or his subordinates usually left water, food, or clothing while I slept. A thin, leather water pouch awaited me; James would take this from me during his next visit, so I knew to drink it all before this happened. However, instead of drinking it, I carried it to the lookout window on the northeast wall and poured a small amount of water on the worn stone there. Lifting my dirty cloth, I began rubbing the wet stone with hard, vigorous strokes, wearing the old rock down grain by grain. I had repeated this process for the past thirteen months whenever water dropped from above, either by James or the clouds. It was such a slow method of escape that no one had noticed the slight dip in the stone growing larger each week._

_After the water pouch was half empty, around the three-hundredth stroke, I felt something. Shocked, I stared at a small fracture in the stone about two inches below my handiwork. My dirty fingers probed along the inch-long splinter with ginger curiosity. Placing my palms above the crack, I pushed on the stone with a fair amount of force. I jolted forward when the fragment came loose, falling to the ground above with a quiet thud. The opening it left behind was plenty wide enough for my head to fit through, and, with some effort, my whole body wiggled through to the surface._

_I clutched the grassy ground with both hands as though something would suck me back inside the prison. Glancing back at the underground structure, I whispered something that I could barely comprehend at the moment. "I'm free."_

_My bare feet stumbled through the dry forest weakly. Though I felt like running – running as far away as I possibly could – my current state would not allow such a pleasure. I tracked the sporadic trails of wild animals in search of nourishment. Being sorely out of practice, I could catch nothing more than a small opossum, which didn't offer any substance whatsoever._

_In my distracted hunt, I didn't realize his presence was so close until I felt James' hands on my shoulders. I shouted in surprise as he lifted me off the ground, helpless to his superior strength. "Now, how did you get out?" he asked, truly curious. "I guess it doesn't matter... you're going back." He spun me around to face him, and then threw me over his back by the waist._

_I hung there like a lifeless doll, panicked and easily defeated. His words repeated over and over again in my head, cutting away at my will to escape each time. _Going back, going back, going back... _Tears leaked through my sealed eyelids as he began to run back in the direction I'd just taken._

_"__James!" a feminine voice called._

_He came to a halt immediately, and I wondered who could have such power over the man I'd grown to hate. He turned his body towards the voice, which stole any chance I had of spotting the owner. "What is it?" he said gruffly._

_"__Put that down," the voice ordered._

_James lowered his hand and angled his shoulder, causing me to flop to the ground flaccidly. I felt his hand close securely around my forearm as I sprung to my feet, holding me there like a dog on a tether. I glanced around his shoulder at the woman who'd spoken._

_"__You're needed at the front lines," she said, ignoring my curious stare. "Bonnie was overrun," she added. Her masculine clothes were torn and dirty, and her red hair was tossed about from excessive movement. _Was she in combat along with "Bonnie"?

_James swore loudly, his grip on my arm tightening painfully. "I'll be there shortly. Run ahead without me."_

_The woman's vibrant eyes flickered to me. In that small moment, I saw unmistakable jealousy. "No, James. You're coming _now_," she demanded haughtily._

_"__But I need to –"_

_"__James," she impatiently interrupted. "We have more than enough to worry ourselves with the war alone. How long will you keep that troublesome thing about?"_

_James debated this for a moment. "She's an asset. She makes me stronger," he stated quietly, digging his fingernails into my skin._

_"__I've seen no change in you," she said skeptically, shaking her head. "You're deluding yourself and you need to stop. Let her go."_

_I marveled at the woman's audacity. James' teeth gnashed together as his grip gradually loosened; he didn't like being told what to do. Finally, he threw my arm aside roughly. "Yes, Victoria." He didn't make eye contact with me as he turned and followed the woman._

_My mouth hung agape as I motionlessly watched the two leave. The woman turned to look over her shoulder just before they moved out of sight, locking our gazes together for half a moment. I'll never forget the vivacious eyes of that red-haired woman..._

_My savior._

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

I shuttered awake to the feelings of wetness licking my hand; I saw nothing but total darkness until my vision adjusted. Drawing away from Isaac, who hadn't moved an inch during my slumber, I discovered that the ocean water had risen to swallow up the elevated corner on which we sat. The flooded prison was slave to the ocean's tides.

I dried my hands on my skirts – the layer that hadn't been soaked by the rising water – and tried to regain my orientation. There was no birds, no trees or grass, no musket holes, and, most importantly, no red-haired women to have mercy upon me. There was only a mindless Isaac, tall stone walls that seemed infinite, and the salty musk of the invading ocean. I sighed in frustration and put a steadying hand on the damp inner-wall of my new prison.

"You slept," Isaac's raspy voice said, surprising me immensely. I rushed to his side and stooped in the shallow water that surrounded him. His hollow eyes watched me with subtle alertness.

"Oh, yes, I sleep sometimes." I nodded vigorously, trying desperately to hold his delicate attention. "We've spoken of it before – do you remember?"

"Yes..." His eyes fell to the floor.

I ducked my head to recapture his gaze. "Isaac, do you remember _me_?"

His throat muscles contracted in a dry swallow. "Cornelia," he said softly, looking between my eyes. I rejoiced when his brow furrowed with thought – he was finally using his mind.

I knew my next question would be difficult, but the answer was necessary for my mental health. "Isaac, think carefully. About a week ago, you came to see me in a forest. You told me that you needed to help me, you told me that –" I paused when I recalled the phrase he'd instructed me to repeat. "You said to tell you 'The past will rewrite the future' the next time I saw you," I said eagerly, causing him to frown. "Do you remember?"

"No, no, no," he groaned, tossing his head back in aggravation. "I was _here_ a week ago!"

I drew away at his strong reaction. _If he was here, then how...?_ A sudden thought stuck itself inside my head, causing me to wonder why I hadn't seen it before. _If Isaac in the forest was from the future, this Isaac must be the one I know of the present. How did his future self know that I would see him here? _"Isaac...," I said slowly, applying this new theory to my thought process. "How long have you been here?"

"Weeks," he said, his voice more aware than ever. "Many tides." He brushed the surface of the rising water with his fingers, gazing across the room at the ocean-tortured wall.

I nodded. My logic was sound. Not every question was answered, but I had enough information to sooth my conscious. Several moments passed before I chose to sit beside him, drawing my feet above the tar-like waterline. I rested my chin on my knees, not quite knowing what to say to my companion. If history continued to unfold, this Isaac would eventually travel back in time to sacrifice himself for me in a painful, gruesome death. I wasn't sure if I felt grateful or horrified at this fact.

"The past... will rewrite the future. Yes, Master Aro told me that just before they took me," Isaac sighed, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"The Romanians captured you," I inferred tentatively.

He nodded slightly. "In Croatia. Felix and I were sent to... kill a vampire who'd taken a human mate. She was easy to deal with, but..." He turned his head to look at me with his black, bottomless eyes. "I'm fairly certain... it was a trap."

"Was Felix captured also?" I asked.

"No, no. Well... I don't know. One moment I was there with him, and the next...," he trailed off again.

_Stefan's displacement ability._ "And what did Aro tell you about that phrase, Isaac?"

He continued to shake his head. "I... can't remember. My mind is..." He pressed a palm to his forehead and closed his eyes. "My thirst..." He fell silent when words escaped him.

I frowned despite our substantial progress. I now knew how he got there, but not why. The Romanians obviously knew more about Isaac's plan than I did; they probably intended to kill him to stop his progress. After all, if Isaac hadn't warned me about their foul intentions, I may have been more trusting of Vladimir's sweet words. In essence, Isaac had already changed the past considerably before his death. However, I'd sensed in his eagerness that his goal was much higher. _The phrase that he passed to me must play a role in that goal. If only this past version of him could remember what exactly..._

"I understand, Isaac," I sighed, standing when I realized the water had risen to my toes. "Thank you for speaking with me."

Though the water lapped at his bare feet, Isaac paid it no mind. "I would be of much more use if I weren't in this state," he said, reminding me a bit of his regular, gentlemanly self. He then gave an uncharacteristic chuckle. "Perhaps it would help if I killed you."

Though the statement was spoken rhetorically, I still tensed at the thought. "Good point," I joked in return, smoothing the back of my damp, matted hair. I pictured the assortment of hair ribbons in the room which I'd first been confined to. Compared to my current cell, that one seemed like heaven. "I'll try to think of a way to avoid that," I told Isaac gently.

"Hurry," he said gravely, feebly bowing his head once more. "If worse comes to worst, there might not be a way to avoid it."

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><p><strong>Your reviews will help me update sooner! Any thoughts, suggestions, and comments are welcome.<br>**

**Next time: "Hunger Pains."  
><strong>

**-Scarlet  
><strong>


	58. Chapter 54: Hunger Pains

**Thank you for reviewing, ****bonniebeast**** and ****Insanity is my second name****! And for the favs/follows, ****pinkcayla**** and ****vampiregirl31****.**

**(Beware: shameless self-promotion ahead!) For those who enjoyed "Part 1" of this story, you might also be interested in the new fanfic I posted that has a similar setting, entitled "New Harmony." It's about life in a utopian society in 1824, with some added Twilight magic (namely Carlisle Cullen). Check it out! Or not... Either way, enjoy this new chapter.**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 54: Hunger Pains<strong>

_January 4, 1942, low tide_

_Muntenia, Greater Romania_

By the third cycle of the tide, the temporary vigor I received from Vladimir's drink was completely gone from my system. I began sinking back into intense hunger, fearing that I would eventually become what Isaac was – a huddled shell, slowly fading away. Unfortunately, my situation was twice as dire as his due to my human half.

My throat burned like fire, from both thirst and my previous attempt to drink the ocean water that occupied the room. I'd quickly learned that becoming wet was inevitable – the water rose to about three feet when it was high tide. This was a blessing and a curse; benefiting in measuring the passage of time, and discouraging in that my clothes were never quite dry. Much like Isaac had, I eventually abandoned my stockings and boots because of this.

My neck gave a painful spasm when I leaned away from my seat against the wall, causing me to grimace in discomfort. _I've been sitting for too long... four hours too long. _I massaged my tense shoulder muscles as I stood and walked toward Isaac. He hadn't moved an inch the entire time, and, fortunately, had dropped his habit of muttering Bible verses. I conversed with him on occasion to keep his mind from drifting – a necessity for my own saneness as well.

"Isaac, do you think the water is getting colder?" I asked, settling down beside him on the semi-dry "bank" of our watery cell. I'd noticed the change in temperature during the last high tide, which was just hours ago.

His fingers crept to the water's edge in response, dipping under to test the temperature. "Perhaps...," he said. "Perhaps a storm is passing."

I frequently fantasized about the fortresses' surroundings. I wasn't at all familiar with the terrain of Romania, so my speculations were less than reliable. A rocky coastline, a secluded mountain, an untouched forest? The possibilities near infinite.

"Was it snowing in Volterra when you left?" I asked, recalling the brilliant winter I spent there. The rustic town nestled in the rolling hills of central Italy was no stranger to harsh weather conditions.

"I... don't recall," Isaac said guiltily. His memory was spotty at best, which continued to dismay me. It seemed as though certain parts of his mind had switched off due to his ever-growing thirst, unaccessible with any amount of mental stimulation. I'd unsuccessfully attempted what Edward often does – hint at one thing in order to draw thoughts out about another. The real problem was that the thoughts simply weren't there.

My desperation had led to certain ideas surfacing in my mind... terrible ideas. My worst one yet was also the most obvious one – slice open my wrist and let Isaac drink my blood. Yes, that was certainly the worst idea thus far, yet the most plausible one. I let my imagination analyze the idea once more...

"The risk is too great," Carlisle would say. Edward might actually laugh at the idea before dismissing it. Heidi would be more angry with Isaac than with me, and Felix would marvel at how the situation even came about. Aro would be thoroughly amused by my thoughts, and probably encourage more of the same. I pictured only Demetri as the first to wholeheartedly approve of risking my life for such a cause. "Is your life so valuable to risk those of countless others?" he would challenge me. I quickly brushed off the thought. He – more specifically, his _ability_ – was most likely my only hope of aid.

I gazed at Isaac's slouched form for a long moment. At the times that I didn't call upon his attention, his head was bent toward his lap in a tangible mark of despair. His colorless eyes were usually closed, lost in the emptiness of his own mind. My sympathy went out to him, but I knew he couldn't fully appreciate it at the moment. "_Isaac?_" I whispered.

His head turned slightly to acknowledge me.

"I would like to share an idea with you," I said.

He blinked his blackish eyes. "Another escape plan?"

"In a way...," I consented, recalling the numerous schemes I'd bounced off him in the past three days. "Well, not really."

He remained silent, waiting for me to continue.

I began to feel nervous about sharing my thoughts with him. My idea involved putting the both of us in rather difficult situations. Any number of things could go wrong, resulting in either of our deaths. The risk was blatant to anyone. "Well, you see, it's about quenching your thirst," I hedged hesitantly.

Even behind the mask of his lifeless eyes, I saw his curiosity pique. "How so?" he grunted.

I tried to swallow my worry, but my rushed voice still wavered with concern. "You must take my blood."

He stared at me for several immeasurable moments, during which I couldn't decide what he was thinking. Eventually, he blinked several times and said, "Don't be a fool."

His words struck a prideful nerve within me. "Well," I sighed, letting my hands fall to the ground. "What do _you_ suggest, Isaac? After all this time spent here, you _must_ have thought of some route of escape. Anything."

My frustrated reaction affected him. "I have," he retorted. "But it's all useless anyway. You saw their forces, didn't you?"

I recalled Vladimir and Stefan's group of servants – Donovan, Darius, Marian, and at least a dozen others I couldn't name. "We could sneak away undetected," I said flatly.

"How?"

I glanced away from him. "This room – there must be a vulnerability somewhere."

"I've tried. There isn't."

I shook my head at his matter-of-fact attitude, growing desperate. "Isaac, please consider my idea once more –"

"No, no, no," he said, shaking his head with each word.

"Don't you realize that we're desperate in this place –?"

"No."

"Isaac, you're dying!" I shouted in a hoarse voice, successfully silencing him. "You're dying in this stupid, black prison and I am, too. If you die then that means I'll die too, or worse," I rambled. "So we have to try everything we can to live, both of us, and it won't be easy. I haven't come this far to just die or become some mindless slave like Donovan. I want to live and I _know_ that Aro would never forgive us if we both _die_!"

I'd spoken my mind honestly, overcome by fatigue and anxiety. My verbal rampage left me winded; my chest heaved with shallow breaths that filled my lungs with the damp, salty air around me. Isaac had listened patiently through every word, staring at me with his expressionless, sunken eyes. Though I'd made a fool of myself, I felt immensely better after unceremoniously venting all my inner fears.

"If we try, I will kill you," he finally said.

"Don't doubt yourself. I know the Volturi trained you in control," I said surely. The first ten years of his newborn life had been spent in intense situational training, some of which Heidi had described for me. He'd learned to resist the call of human blood, and kill in the most civil way possible. I considered the latter a less important skill, but still useful in its ways.

"In my state..." His voice faded as his eyes traveled up my body, pausing at my neck. "If you're willing..."

"I am." I shifted to face him on my knees, my hand moving to the brass buttons on my sleeve. Unfastening them one by one, I pulled the dirty, brownish material above my forearm. The blueish veins there pressed again my pale skin.

Isaac watched me uncertainly with a growing hunger in his eyes. He'd moved to his knees and faced me as well; we appeared as though we were about to share a prayer. I ran my fingers across the ragged ground until I found a relatively sharp stone, and then pressed it to my fragile skin, just below the base of my hand. We paused there for a moment.

"Ready?" I whispered, catching his gaze that had fastened on my wrist.

"Yes," he said quietly, patiently, as his eyes darted back down.

I gave myself little time to question what I was about to do before I pierced my skin with the stone. The pain was sharp – the most vivid sensation I'd felt in days – and traveled along my flesh like fire as I drew the stone across my skin. The long cut began to well up with dark red blood, dripping down my forearm and elbow with unsettling moistness. I cracked open an eye to see Isaac's head close to my arm, hesitating.

"Hurry, Isaac," I gasped between quick breaths. "It hurts."

I forced myself to look away as he focused on his task. His tongue ran along the cut in one, slow motion, causing more blood to rush from my veins. He delayed for several seconds before sealing his lips to my skin completely, letting my blood trickle into his mouth of its own. After an even longer pause, I felt his lips purse as he drew out a large swallow of blood. Another. And another. After the fourth suck I felt a sensation that I thoughtlessly hadn't anticipated – the sting of venom. It crept up my arm as more blood left my system, taking its place in my tissue, rubbing my bones raw.

I let out a shaky breath at the new development, weaving my fingers through Isaac's hair to give his head a gentle tug. "Isaac," I whispered, hoping his attention wasn't too far gone. He didn't respond, so I pulled his hair more forcefully. Another suck, more venom; I cringed at the pain as it seared up my arm, reaching my chest with surprising speed. "Isaac!"

When he pulled away, the pain overtook me. I curled in on myself, convulsing from the hefty dose of venom as my heart pumped, pumped, pumped it through my veins. My teeth clenched together as my muscles rejected the foreign poison, setting off reflexes at random. I became completely oblivious to the world around me as my system slowly destroyed the invading substance. I could recall several times in which I'd had the same experience, feeling as though I would die each time. It seemed to worsen with the passing years; perhaps my equivalent of a human immune system wasn't quite what it used to be.

"Cornelia? _Cornelia?_"

Isaac's panicked voice helped me return to reality, though my ears seemed to be filled with water as I came to my senses. I quickly realized that I'd tossed myself a good distance across the room in the few minutes I'd spent in that burning purgatory. Pushing myself out of the shallow, chilly water, I stood and stumbled toward the dry corner. I discovered that I couldn't walk due to my spinning head, and a pair of hands caught me before I fell into the mucky water once more.

Soon I found myself lying on dry ground, flat on my back. I sensed Isaac hovering about, muttering things to himself. My head throbbed painfully when I slowly rose to my elbows, sending me back to the ground immediately. I could almost hear Carlisle's voice in my mind... _"You must lie down due to blood loss, Cornelia." _I laughed senselessly at the thought, perhaps delusional from the pain or days of anxiety.

"Cornelia, are you alive?" Isaac asked, his face becoming clear in my vision as he leaned over me.

"Yes," I rasped, still smiling.

"Are you in pain?" he asked again.

"Oh, yes," I laughed as my eyes slipped closed. "Very much so. You went a bit too far."

I heard the embarrassment in his voice. "I'm deeply sorry."

"But I'm alive," I sighed, feeling rather sleepy. I admonished myself before I said anything I would later regret. My mind was hazy, which could lead to dangerous things slipping from my lips.

"Then you saved us both. Perhaps you should sleep while I try to sort this mess out."

"Yes, let's. We should hunt, too, if the weather's nice. I hate hunting in the rain," I babbled thoughtlessly, my cognizance dwindling rapidly. "Maybe we should sit by the river again... watch the sun..." My head tilted to the side as sleep overtook me.

"Goodnight, Cornelia."

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

I awoke to the sound of my name spoken in a loud, panicked voice. Waking groggily, I forced myself to open my eyes take in the situation. My head spun with dizziness as I sat up, and my limbs felt sore and weak, particularly my right forearm. My vision adjusted quickly as I searched for the source of the shout.

"Cornelia!" the same, flustered voice yelled again.

Turning my gaze upward, I saw a small figure standing in the sixty-foot-high doorway of my cell, peering down with worried eyes. The boy's blond hair and too-small clothes were familiar, yet seemed so foreign in the dark place. "Donovan?" I called, pulling myself out of the inch of water that had risen around me in sleep.

His eyes lit up when he found that he had my attention. "Cornelia, did he attack you?"

The question, at first, confused me. Since I hadn't slept as long as I needed, my drowsiness clung close to me and beckoned me back into its embrace, where cold, wet, and hunger meant nothing. I began shaking my head until I felt a firm hand rest on my shoulder.

"Don't answer him," Isaac's quiet voice warned from behind.

I glanced back at him, recalling what had happened between us. The result of my misery was relieving – his sharp, crimson eyes glared unwaveringly at Donovan. He'd no doubt returned to himself. "Why?" I queried innocently.

"Need you ask?" he hissed, turning his demanding gaze on me. "It's bad enough that he's already seen me revived. No need to give him any more information."

I shied away from his harshness, but nodded in understanding. The Romanians would no doubt take action if they realized that Isaac was restored and functional; they would perhaps separate us, or worse. A fed vampire could possibly escape the cell with enough determination. "I-I understand," I said weakly, turning my gaze away from the doorway.

But Donovan's resoluteness proved strong. It wasn't long before I heard him splash into the water and make his way speedily toward us. Isaac shoved me further into the dry corner, away from the water's edge, and stood offensively as Donovan approached.

Donovan's face was stricken with grief as his steps through the water slowed. His eyes were on me, but his posture was aligned with Isaac's. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "I wouldn't have found this place unless I smelt the blood..."

His statement smote something within me. I shared his frown as I considered the implication behind his words. _He didn't know we were here. He's acting alone in coming here, no doubt. _Stepping forward, I grasped Isaac's sleeve and gave it a gentle pull. "Isaac, he's harmless," I murmured.

Isaac stared at me in disbelief before returning his eyes to Donovan. "He's an enemy," he simply said.

I bit my tongue in worry as I glanced between the two; the situation could easily lead to a fight. _Not now, not over something so trivial!_ I stepped between them with my hands raised in peace, breaking their aggressive connection with the simple action.

"Donovan," I said carefully, "Isaac did not attack me. I gave him my blood willingly." His eyes filled with his usual puzzlement as I heard Isaac growl under his breath. I glanced back at him pointedly. "We can trust him, Isaac," I soothed.

"On whose word?" he asked questioningly.

"M-Mine!" Donovan squeaked to our great surprise, raising his hands in a gesture that mirrored my own. "I only came because I was worried about you, honest." His eyes were wide and pleading. "I smelt blood, and... when I saw him, I... and you were lying on the ground...," he sputtered, eyes darting from Isaac to me. He sighed helplessly, waiting for our verdict.

I felt the need to embrace him, to console him, but I knew Isaac would never have it. He would never trust the boy, no matter how much faith I showed in him. Nonetheless, I slowly lowered my hands, looking to Isaac for his consent. For a moment I thought his eyes sparked with anger at my actions, but instead, they softened with surrender. "If we must," he grumbled, relaxing his stance. "You must realize he's only here to spy on our progress."

I ignored Isaac's suspicious remarks and stepped toward Donovan, who still stared at Isaac with fearful hesitation. His large eyes darted to me when I gently touched his shoulder. I smiled brightly, trying to bring one to his face as well. A small, weak smile twitched on his pale lips.

"Y-You're sure you're not hurt?" he asked faintly.

Pulling my right sleeve above my elbow, I watched as his eyes traced the fading pink line on the inside of my forearm. "I'm healing quickly," I told him.

His eyes found mine again, appearing a bit less worried than before. "I'm relieved," he sighed, twisting his fingers together. "When I smelt the blood – your blood – I had come."

"You weren't told to come here?" I asked, voicing my previous assumption.

"N-No. I didn't know this place existed until now. The lords told me not to venture out alone." He continued to fidget nervously with his hands.

The way he used the phrase "venture out" caused me to frown. _Has he never left this stone fortress, then? _"Well, I appreciate your concern for me, Donovan. Thank you."

His reaction to my gratefulness was much like before; he was unaccustomed to the idea of appreciation. He nodded his head once, his brow furrowed slightly. "I don't know if –"

"Donovan, you twit," a voice boomed from above, causing the boy to freeze in panic. "Can you ever do as you're told?" Surprised by the sudden voice, I squinted at the elevated doorway and recognized the broad figure with the minimal light my eyes could gather.

"Darius," Donovan mumbled, glancing up at him fearfully. When Donovan rose his voice to reply, the high timbre of it reverberated against the tall stone walls. "I wasn't told not to come here, Darius!"

Darius whispered something in return; my hearing was too weak to catch it. However, the reply had quite an effect on Donovan, whose face crumpled as Darius quickly turned and left.

I carefully eyed Donovan, who folded his arms crossly. The strange encounter left me with new, conflicting thoughts in my head. _He meant to leave Donovan down here with us? As some form of punishment? As a prisoner among his own people? _Though the sudden betrayal was to my indirect advantage, I felt sympathy for the boy.

A quiet chuckle sounded from the corner to which Isaac retreated upon Darius' appearance, causing me to glance at the time traveler with a disapproving frown.

Donovan stood statue-still for several minutes, appearing utterly lost in his own mind. I couldn't fathom what he was feeling towards the betrayal, or if I should presume to disturb him. Minutes passed with nothing but the crashing sounds of the ocean to fill the silence. Isaac resumed pacing about the room, holding his chin with rigid posture as he muttered passing thoughts.

"'The past'...," I heard him often whisper. "'The past will rewrite'..."

Being as exhausted and famished as I was, I chose to sit on the moist ground with my knees drawn up to my chest. A slight ache settled in the pit of my stomach, but, other than that, my body was pleasingly numb. Even the damaged veins in my arm seemed insensitive to pain. Soon, my head began to droop with lethargy.

After about half an hour of this strange environment, Isaac paused mid-step and whirled around to a blank-faced Donovan. The boy had seemed to grow roots to the ground where he stood. "Donovan, is it?" Isaac said, breaking the silence with an oddly amiable gesture.

Donovan blinked out of his distance trance, and surprise overtook his features as Isaac awaited his response. "Y-Yes, sir," Donovan replied, obviously still wary of him.

Isaac's mood seemed considerably lighter, causing me to wonder what sort of epiphany could have occurred in his strange mind. "And you've the ability to control vampiric gifts?"

"Well... 'block' them, sir."

Isaac then smiled brightly, a stark contrast to his previous gloom. "Then I've a favor to ask, Donovan."

* * *

><p><strong>Hm, what is Isaac up to? Review and make my day.<strong>

**Cornelia: "Don't even give her the satisfaction of a review. She loves to torture me for her own pleasure."**

**Me: "What're you saying, Cora? The scene where you offer Isaac your blood was TOTALLY your idea."**

**Cornelia: (a bit embarrassed) Well, yes... but you did make me go crazy afterwards for no apparent reason."**

**Me: "You'd just had an intensely painful experience! You were bound to react to it somehow..."**

**Cornelia: (clenching fist menacingly) "Did you just say 'intensely painful experience'?"**

**Me: (runs in fear) "Please review! Thank you for reading!"**

**-Scarlet  
><strong>


	59. Chapter 55: The Future Rewritten

**Thanks for the reviews, ****bonniebeast****, ****Insanity is my second name****, and ****jazzigirl95.**** And for the follows/favs, ****jazzigirl95, ****DorkInDisguise****, ****Thrill-Pair-All-The-Way****, and ****SarcasticEnigma****.**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 55: The Future Rewritten<strong>

_January 5, 1942, high tide_

_Muntenia, Greater Romania_

"Explain it once more, Isaac? Perhaps from the beginning?"

I knew Isaac's patience was hanging by a thin thread, but I simply couldn't wrap my mind around his plan. Or rather, his _future self's_ plan. He'd continuously attempted to explain it to me for the past several hours with little success.

"This past summer, Aro encountered myself from 1993, who had been sent _back_ to the year 1941 on orders from the future Volturi," he began slowly, gesturing as he spoke. "I – the future I, that is – put forward a detailed plan which included me – the present me – being captured by the Romanian coven. This would allow me to encounter you, who had received the 'key phrase' from me – the future me – and was told to repeat it when you found me – the present me – here."

I nodded slowly, uncertainly. "But... What's the point of this key phrase?"

He seemed eager to reply to my first coherent question. "If you had _not_ delivered it to me here, I would know that my future self already accomplished what he set out to do. My presence here would merely be a cautionary measure. However, since that is not the case, I have been assigned certain steps in order to finished what he started."

Finally, something I understood. _Since Isaac from the future foresaw his own death in that forest, he gave me the phrase so that Isaac from the present could finish the job. _"I see. Did Aro tell you exactly what _you_ set out to do? You from the future, I mean."

"No, he didn't," he said, frowning slightly. "He told me all of this in great detail, but seemed persistent on not sharing that particular point. I'm sure there is a reason behind it, but I can't image what it is."

As I pondered this, my eyes strayed to where Donovan sat, alone on the raised corner of our cell. The tide had risen across the length of the floor, standing about two feet at its lowest point. The dirty hem of my skirt floated in the gently moving water. "So then," I said, watching Donovan's gaze aimlessly at his feet. "What _is_ your task, Isaac?"

His tone was grim. "Boston, Massachusetts; December fifth, 1778."

My eyes darted to his at the mention of my city and date of birth. "What of it?"

My reaction surprised him, but he explained nonetheless. "That is where I must go. I was told to bring information back that will improve our current situation exponentially. Something transpires on that particular day in that particular place – something that may change the current course of history."

"No," I said hastily, "that's not likely. You see, that is when and where I was born," I explained.

"Ah," he said musingly, nodding in understanding. "What an interesting event indeed. This puzzle will very soon be solved, I suspect. If only..." His eyes slid to Donovan's hunkered figure in the corner, half-submerged in filthy water. I could practically see the thought behind his eyes. _If only Donovan would release Isaac's ability._

Though Donovan had shown boundless sympathy towards me, his view of Isaac was not so merciful. Apparently, he had been told that Isaac was a very dangerous vampire – one that could threaten the very fiber of his coven. I'd found it rather amusing that Isaac had been thoroughly complimented by this information. However, Donovan's apparent loyalty to the traitorous Romanians remained unshaken, even though his own comrade had left him to rot in the unclimbable walls of the prison.

Isaac leaned close to my ear and murmured, "If I had access to my gift for not but a moment, I could finish this whole business."

I doubted his words. Even if he succeeded in his objective in 1778, he would return to the same dark prison cell in which we found ourselves. He told me that his ability not only transcended time, but also space. That being, he could easily travel the length of a continent as well as a century. However, he was limited by the fact that he must return to the exact same time and place from which he began. In other words, though his gift could lead him to any given point in time, he was still bound to that cell as much as I was.

"What do you expect to find there, Isaac?" I asked.

He shook his head and frowned speculatively. "It's hard to say, though I now suspect that you are involved to some extent. It's possible –" he suddenly fell silent, glancing away.

My first thought was to urge him to continue, but my mind jumped to its own conclusion just a moment later. _It's possible that his purpose there is to prevent my birth._ The notion sent an unprovoked tremor through my body. Had it been my fault all along? Isaac's future death, and the Romanian's potential domination of the human race? Would my lack of existence resolve the problem? Prevent it from even originating? Most importantly, if Isaac did indeed prevent my birth, would I simply vanish from the pages of history?

I pinched the bridge of my nose as these thoughts assaulted me. The possibility was strong; so strong that it shook me to the core. However, there was one, large hole in my theory: if Isaac did intend to take my life, why hadn't he simply done so the first time he appeared to me from the future?

Isaac seemed to notice my self-imposed torment several minutes later, for I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder from behind. I turned, quickly collecting my troubled expression. Staring at me with a certain amount of precariousness, Isaac slowly raised his hand to my shoulder in a gesture of consolation. "Above all else, Cornelia, my task is to protect you. To protect all of us. I will not fail in this, I _swear _to you."

I felt immediate relief, deeply touched by his words. "Th-Thank you, Isaac," I murmured, unable to muster a stronger voice. I instead smiled to reassure him. Surprisingly enough, he returned it twice over.

"Do not touch her," a low voice warned from the corner, "_monster_."

Isaac visibly deadpanned, and quickly removed his hand. Though Donovan had been a thorn in his side the entire twelve hours he'd spent with us, it was evident that Isaac required his cooperation. Donovan continued to block our gifts, simply obeying the orders he received the moment Isaac was imprisoned there weeks ago. I hadn't approached him on the subject – unwilling to take advantage of his empathy for me – much to Isaac's frustration.

"This is becoming tedious," Isaac snarled softly, meeting Donovan's glare with a chilly gaze of his own. "We are wasting time, Cornelia."

I understood his implication of the undeniable truth – _I_ must be the one to convince Donovan to disobey his master's orders, and I must do this _very_ soon. Sighing at my burden, I raised a hand to touch my clammy forehead. My body was weak and hardly fit for any form of escape; it became more so with each passing tide of the ocean. We were running out of time in every sense of the phrase... We were locked in a stalemate until Donovan agreed to help us, and I was the only one who could possibly convince him to do so.

"Yes, Isaac," I sighed, beginning the watery trek to where Donovan sat. "I know."

Donovan's piercing stare softened as I approached, and his shoulders drooped in ease. "Cornelia," he greeted, and then frowned. "You look hungry."

Smiling, I crouched beside him, holding my knees above the nasty water. "I am," I told him. "I believe I dreamt of hunting foxes last night."

His head cocked to the side, curious. "Hunting foxes?"

I nodded. "The blood of a fox – that's my favorite taste in the world."

The smile on his face mirrored my own. "How does it taste?"

Pursing my lips thoughtfully, I said, "Perhaps like honey, but sweeter still. It tastes refreshing and exhilarating all at once."

"Honey..." His face contorted in thought as he tried to imagine my description. "I've only tasted the blood that Lord Vladimir gives me. I would like to taste fox blood one day, too." He smiled abashedly.

A pang of heartbreak resounded in my chest, stealing my breath. I opened my mouth to reply, but I couldn't conjure anything appropriate. _He's trapped here... bound to his lords._

"Rain."

I glanced behind to see Isaac pressing his ear against the far wall of our prison, where the ocean lapped and thundered from the outside. He stood in water that nearly reached his chest; the deepest point in the room.

"Rain is falling," he repeated, resting his hand against the stone.

Visions of a storm-churned ocean flashed through my mind. Large, white-capped waves rising up against the fortress, crashing against it with the swirling power of the wind. Somehow the images, though pictures of our freedom, frightened me.

"Do you like the rain, Donovan?" I asked, turning back to the boy.

He stood to his feet then, turning his ear toward the sound of rain too faint for my own hearing. His clothes dripped with water as he listened carefully. "I don't know... Is it pleasant?"

"Sometimes," I replied, watching a great ripple travel the length of the room due to his movement. "I find it pleasant on most occasions." The inky black liquid was rather chilly – cold, even – and this fact caused me to shiver. If I were fully human, I would no doubt have taken violently ill by now.

Recalling Isaac's impatient request, I focused my attention back on Donovan.

He had been watching the water along with me until he felt my gaze upon him. Turning his head, the boy gave me a small, pleased smile. "Then I like the rain, too."

My chest constricted with guilt as I fought to return the smile. Donovan's innocence was endearing in such a dank atmosphere; it sustained me in an otherwise hopeless situation. To convince him to help us, as Isaac so desired, would leave a definite mark on my conscious, my morals. However, the greater good must be served – I must do all within my power to end the rise of the Romanian coven, which included swaying Donovan to our side.

"Cornelia?" Donovan tilted his head to the side in concern at my strange silence. "Are you all right?"

Startled from my thoughts, I attempted to wipe my face of worry, perhaps to sooth him. I failed, and his frown deepened to reflect my own. "Donovan –" the next words caught in my strep throat. As I tried to swallow nothing more than dryness, my tongue clicked against the roof of my mouth. "I... I am unwell."

He sighed in response, eyes downcast. "If only Lord Vladimir would give you more to drink..."

I shook my head hastily, resisting the urge to cringe at the mention of the vial drink. "No. I know of something much better that he could give me," I said ardently, drawing Donovan's attention away from the floor. He stared at me with large, curious eyes. Taking a small breath to summon courage, I whispered, "Freedom."

Donovan was instantly taken aback, shocked and appalled. "You don't mean...!"

I felt Isaac's gaze heavily on the back of my head, but I paid him no mind, focusing rather on Donovan. "Yes. I don't belong in this place. I never _will_. No matter how long they keep me down here" – I gestured around at our dark prison – "I will never submit to their will."

His eyes filled with sadness at my words. "But..."

"I would rather _die_ than join their coven, Donovan," I continued, purposefully excluding him from "them." He watched me carefully. "And if that is what I must do, I shall. I've made up my mind, but..."

He perked up almost immediately. "'But' what?" he asked excitedly.

I smiled at his enthusiasm. "But Isaac and I may have found a way to save all three of us. Would you like to share freedom with me?" I inquired gently, holding out my hand in an appealing manner.

At the mention of Isaac's name, Donovan's face fell. His lower lip jutted out – an obvious sign of stubbornness. "I heard you two talking. I know what he wants me to do," he said tersely, shooting a cross look in Isaac's direction.

My expression faltered. Any progress I may have made with Donovan was possibly lost in that moment. "Donovan, do you realize how – ?"

"No, he doesn't." Isaac's severe tone silenced me instantly. I turned my head as he approached us, his eyes resting heavily on Donovan. The child simply glared back as Isaac spoke to him. "He doesn't fully grasp the gravity of the situation. He doesn't see his leader's true intentions, nor does he have the will to appose them. _He_ never will."

Donovan's jaw clenched as he stood to his full height – which was only an inch taller than my own – and his nose turned up pridefully. "You don't know a thing," he spat at Isaac accusingly.

Isaac only smiled – a knowing, and strangely alarming, gesture. "But don't I?" he challenged, addressing Donovan directly. "I know that you have never left this stone fortress; that you know nothing of your human life. You are not but a tool, child – a useful shield that your 'lords' foolishly cower behind. Your life has little or no meaning beyond that... I pity you."

But his disgusted tone held no pity whatsoever. I glanced between them, feeling my heart go out to each for different reasons. Though I truthfully agreed with Isaac, I truly felt a great amount of compassion for Donovan. However, my torn sympathy was quickly put to rest when a painful sob racked Donovan's slim frame, surprising both Isaac and me.

I stared in wonder as tearless weeping overtook the boy, bringing him to his knees with its intensity. After frowning in Isaac's direction – where he stood looking quite pleased with himself – I crouched beside Donovan and pulled his trembling form into a comforting embrace. Fearful of what I might say, I remained silent as he readily clutched my shoulders, burying his face in my bosom. I rubbed soothing circles on his back, mimicking a gesture I'd learned years before when I myself had needed consolation.

Minutes later, his breathing slowed to an even pace; he only uttered the occasional whimper. I watched Isaac's face over his shoulder, trying to decipher the thoughts that reeled behind his eyes. One thing I knew for certain: he hadn't said those things irrationally – he had a plan. _Attrition of a weak enemy, perhaps. How cruel._

"I w-want to help...," Donovan whimpered quietly, recapturing my attention. He withdrew from my chest, and locked his wide, tortured eyes on mine. "B-But... I canno-ot betray my only f-family." His eyes fell to the ground as he said this.

My mind flashed with the memory of Vladimir's offer; he'd referred to his coven as a "family." I frowned at Donovan's distressing ignorance. "Donovan, a family is built around love and trust... not hate and suffering," I said, gesturing around to the very embodiment of the Romanian's ill will. "What Vladimir and Stefan have built here is not a family – it's an army. As Isaac harshly put," I said, throwing him a disheartened glance, "you are only a part of that army.

Surprisingly enough, Donovan nodded at this. "I know," he said despondently, hesitantly meeting my eyes. "Marian is the only one who is nice to me. I know that the rest... hate me."

I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, which caused him to smile a bit. "I know of a better family you could join. Isaac and I – we belong with them. Everyone is viewed as an equal in our family, and _no one _is treated badly based on their past or abilities."

After I said this, Isaac's expression turned quizzical. I ignored him. _A little sugar-coating is necessary. The Volturi is his enemy after all – he's naturally biased._

Donovan's face grew dubious. "The Volturi," he inferred, grimacing. "If we escaped from this place... I could join them?"

A tinge of guilt fluttered through me , but I quickly brushed it aside. _I'm sure Aro will see the value in him. _"Yes," I replied with a tight smile. "If you accept them, you will never be taken for granted again. Trust me."

A bright smile broke on his face when I said this, but his eyes still held hesitation. He was skeptical, naturally, but he was certainly intrigued by the prospect of leaving the Romanians. "Right," he said, standing to his feet. "I've decided."

Then, several things happened for which I wasn't at all prepared. First, I felt my gift return to me as Donovan released hold of it; it felt as though something was placed in my hand that had been noticeably missing. Second, I felt a ripple of awareness flow through me that stole the breath from my lungs, leaving my heart pounding from the strange, intense sensation. Donovan caught my eye, frowning with similar confusion, and I suddenly had the urge to locate Isaac.

But he was nowhere to be found.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Donovan sighed for the thirteenth time. "Does this mean he's died? In the past?"

Hours later, Isaac was still gone from the room. I had no doubt that he'd traveled back to the past to complete whatever objective awaited him there, just as we'd discussed. However, I also had no doubt that he should have returned the moment after he left. I knew his ability was bound to a particular place and time; in other words, he should have reappeared to the very moment he disappeared. But he hadn't, and my nerves grew with each passing minute.

"Possibly," I replied to Donovan, nodding distractedly. "We can't be sure."

He sighed once more. "I don't like waiting."

"Nor do I." I smiled grimly.

To my great embarrassment, my stomach suddenly clenched in hunger and emitted a hollow growl. Grimacing, I curled an arm around my abdomen and muttered an apology. Such hunger pains were becoming rather common.

Donovan's eyebrows knit together with worry. "Are you...?"

"I'm fine," I assured him, resting my head against the wall behind me. Fortunately, the water had receded enough so that the raised corner was exposed. We sat together with our backs to the wall, waiting for Isaac's delayed return. I quickly added, "Though I would rest much better if I knew Isaac was safe." _And if I knew the details of his plan._

He simply frowned in return.

Honestly, my hope was rapidly dwindling. My heightened anxiety tolled my body to an almost unbearable length. Though I knew I was extremely dehydrated, my palms were clammy. Though I knew the nutrients in my blood were scarce, my heart pounded with anticipation. Though I knew I was in no state to fight, my muscles remained tensed and ready. In essence, my mind fought to keep my body from wasting away, which wasn't helpful at all.

I chuckled to myself when I recalled a particular song lyric; one that would certainly help me at the moment. _Wrap your troubles in dreams..._

"What is it?" Donovan asked, watching me curiously.

"Bing Crosby," I replied. The familiar name made me smile. "He is a musician from America. His songs are quite popular."

He nodded in understanding, and I was immediately relieved that I didn't have to explain "music" to him. "Sing one?" he chirped eagerly. In response to my surprised expression, he grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. Marian sings to me sometimes. I like it."

I smiled at the thought, though I couldn't quite picture the aggressive brunette as the singing type. From what Donovan told me about her, I could assume that she had a soft side that simply wasn't showing all the time. Although I doubted that I could sing very well with my hoarse throat (in addition to my already-lacking singing voice), Donovan's hopeful expression urged me to fulfill his request.

"I don't know all the lyrics," I admitted, clearing my throat. Then, I began singing quietly, tentatively, as Donovan's soft smile encouraged me. "_When skies are cloudy and gray, they're only gray for a day... So wrap your troubles in dreams, and dream your troubles away... When that sunshine breaks through –_" I stopped, coughing dryly. "I'm s-sorry," I choked out.

He shook his head as though it were nothing. Then, in a clear, tenor voice, he repeated the lyrics note-for-note. His voice was innocent, pure; it reminded me of the young choirs of the Catholic church. It was... refreshing. When he reached the end of the phrase I'd sang, he began making up his own lyrics, changing the key and tempo ever so slightly. I felt my eyes slipping closed as the music lulled me, distracting me from my aching hunger and apprehension.

"Thank you," I whispered when he fell silent, mesmerized by his talent. "That was beautiful, Donovan."

He smiled proudly at my praise. When he opened his mouth to reply, another sensation undulated through the room, stealing the words from his lips. I felt it, too – it was much like the phenomenon from hours before. Standing to my feet, I eagerly scanned the room for the source of the disturbance.

"Isaac!" I exclaimed, hastily making my way to where he stood. As his burgundy eyes stared blankly into the darkness, he suddenly fell to his knees, crashing into the foot of water in which he stood. I caught his shoulders before he slumped to the ground completely, but his weight was too much for me to bear. He collapsed on top of me, effectively dousing us both beneath the water. Gasping for breath, I soon felt Donovan pry Isaac away and help me to my feet. My eyes hungrily took in his appearance as Donovan nestled his head on his lap above the water. What I found shocked me to the core.

Isaac's hair was considerably shorter, but that certainly wasn't what caused me to openly gasp. _My God, his clothes!_ Instead of the tattered brown suit of before, he wore a royal blue, gold-trimmed Naval uniform. The material was worn and faded, and the brass buttons hung loosely from their threads. In addition, the collar was limp and unfastened, as though it had been out-of-use for many years. My conclusion was instantaneous: _This uniform is from 1778._

The time traveler breathed heavily – an unnecessary reflex to whatever traumatic situation he'd just experienced. I recalled Heidi saying that his gift was quite taxing on him, meaning that his dark irises told no lie about his thirst. But I knew he couldn't rest at the moment.

"In the past, Isaac... what did you find?" I asked eagerly, my voice shaking slightly.

He stared up at me, gasping. "The... the truth." He closed his eyes for a moment, visualizing something. "Vladimir..."

"Yes?" I wiped the gritty water from his face with my hand, as though to calm his panic. "What about Vladimir, Isaac?"

"He's..." Shaking his head, he took a smothered breath, and said, "He's your father."

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><p><strong>Whoa! How will Cornelia react? Leave me a review and I will love you forever...<strong>

**Next time: "The End."**

**-Scarlet**


	60. Chapter 56: The End – Part 1

**So, it's been four months and two days since my last update. I have plenty of excuses for this, but I shan't bore you with them. Just know that I sincerely apologize for the wait, and hope that you enjoy the final product. As with every other deeply emotional chapter, this one was particularly difficult to get out on paper... or on screen.**

**Anyway, thank you for reviewing, ****bonniebeast****, ****XxTwistedIvyxX****, ****Preciousfreedom****, ****Insanity is my second name****, ****Guest,****firewolf007****, ****Angel0525****, and ****waitingangelofdeath****. And for faving/following, ****GemmaGemini98****, ****Lopez2012****, ****Laura201112****, ****Kiwichan916****, ****Sakruafan12****, ****ecl1ps3****, ****firewolf007****, ****Melissa Caspien****, ****lorena123****, ****VeryMerryPippin****, ****waitingangelofdeath****, ****Kagome Echizen Fan****, ****kimboik****, ****awsomeness126****, ****ijuska****, ****oh-yeah-anime****, ****Dukbokki****, and ****mandy618****.**

**And special thanks to that ****Guest**** review left earlier this morning – it reminded me to upload this. XD**

**And Happy Valentine's Day!**

**-Scarlet**

**P.S. I encourage you to skim over the last chapter before reading this one to jog your memory. Unfortunately, I got writer's block right when things got complicated.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 56: The End – Part 1<strong>

_January 6, 1942, low tide_

_Muntenia, Greater Romania_

"Vladimir... he's your father."

Shock poured through my veins like liquid ice, causing me to freeze on the spot as my mind filled with a thousand thoughts at once. _My... father? _I immediately pictured Vladimir there – there in the indistinct memories of my birth – and the vision that overtook me nearly pulled me to my knees.

_Light. Light so intense as I'd never seen before filled my newborn vision. Rather than feeling my mother's warm womb encompassing me, I was then surrounded with cold, thin air. Liquid fought its way up from my lungs, which were soon filled with oxygen as I took my first, strangled breath. My head turned instinctively toward the sound of a voice, and the white light quickly faded into the picture of a woman's face. My mother? She spoke with hasty words that I didn't understand, but her voice was familiar to me from my time spent inside of her._

_When her mouth no longer moved with words, she looked down at me. My eyes widened as I took in her appearance – soft hazel eyes, cream-colored skin, long and golden hair. I quickly fell in love with this goddess; my small hand reached of its own to cradle her damp cheek. Her chapped lips broke into a sad smile, and a single word slipped from them which my heart yearned to know. Just then, a drop of moisture fell from her beautiful eyelashes to my hand. I pulled it away, surprised by the new sensation, and my eyes focused on the tiny tear... Soft rays of candlelight glinted from its surface just before it rolled off my hand and disappeared from sight._

_A sudden pressure on my arm was my only warning before I was torn away from my mother. I cried out as I crashed to the ground, my newborn limbs barely strong enough to support my body. My hands groped across the cold ground in search of my mother's warmth. Raising my head, I searched for her face once more; instead, I found a new one._

_He looked at me for the briefest of moments – crimson eyes, ashen hair, angular features – before turning to the low bed from which he'd removed me. Snatching a woman's arms in his hands, he yanked her from the bed and held her tightly until the skin on her arms turned snowy white. When I recognized the woman as my comely mother, I floundered about on the ground, grunting and groaning in protest. I wanted her touch, her scent, her warmth.  
><em>

_Her scream pierced my ears just as his teeth pierced her neck. My movements slowed when her eyes found mine over his shoulder... Her flushed skin quickly became pale as those beautiful eyes drained of life. Soon, her limp body fell from the man's arms to the ground, her face coming to rest before my eyes. I babbled nothingness as I reached out for the dead goddess, lying just inches from my grasp._

_Tears slid easily down my cheeks, and I understood in that moment why my mother had first cried. The moisture blurred my vision as I was lifted from the ground; I yelled and thrashed violently. The cold arms that held me were unfamiliar, as was the voice that murmured in my ear. My throat soon burned with the force of my screams..._

A strangled noise escaped my lips as I clutched my hands to my chest, fighting the fiery tears that formed in my eyes. My mind scrambled for logic, for an explanation.

_Why did Vladimir impregnate my mother? Why did he allow her to give birth to me? Why did he murder her? Why did he abandon me? Why has he sought me out now, all these years later? Why didn't he tell me that I am his daughter? Why? Why? WHY?_

Soon, as my mother's beautiful face faded from my mind like a photograph among flames, the reason didn't matter. Nothing mattered except one, strong, compelling truth: _Vladimir _must_ die_.

The misty spear flew from my hand unprovoked, and crashed into the stony wall such as thunder clashes against the earth. A large crack formed along the mortar and immediately began trickling water. The wall that faced the ocean waves was no match against my fury-fueled attacks. Shield after shield formed at my fingertips, soaring toward the wall faster with each strike. The crack grew with each impact, allowing an increasing amount of water to enter the room. A single tear escaped the corner of my eye and gently slipped down my cheek – a stark contrast to the violent waves churning just outside my prison cell.

Just as the mighty stone wall gave way to a torrent of ocean-water, I became aware of voices around me. _Isaac and Donovan._

"– beg you to consider the consequences! Since Donovan's gift is no longer protecting this place, Demetri and the Guard will be able to locate it easily –"

"– kill you! The lords will _never_ let you escape. Lord Vladimir is more powerful than..."

Donovan fell silent when my head snapped to the side. I watched him over my shoulder as water continued to flood the prison, all the while bracing myself against the powerful deluge that nearly reached my chest. "Do not speak his name," I whispered lowly in a voice not my own.

The boy's posture immediately became contrite as his eyes fell away from mine; however, Isaac fought for my attention with renewed vigor. "This is not a matter you can face alone, Cornelia," he said forcefully, nearing me as his eyes burning with caution. "Clear your mind – think for a moment about what you are doing!"

His warning struck a nerve somewhere within me. My lips parted with silent words as the whirlwind of my thoughts slowly calmed, allowing me to rationally analyze the situation. _He's correct... I mustn't get ahead of myself. _Frowning at my sudden flash of perspective, I slowly nodded in acknowledgment. "Forgive me... I –"

My shallow breath was stolen when a large influx of water pulled me beneath its violent surface. The icy current blinded my senses and tossed me about like a tangle of seaweed. As I struggled to find my bearing, my legs were dragged bloody along the rough ground. I cringed in pain when the salty water bit at my open flesh, but, nonetheless, my head broke the turbulent surface just seconds later. Treading water, I sputtered and coughed as much-needed oxygen filled my lungs. I blinked rapidly to clear my stolen vision.

Instinctively, I lurched away from the hands that suddenly grabbed my shoulders, but quickly relaxed when I found them to be Isaac's. "Can you swim?" he asked hurriedly.

I nodded unsteadily, trying to swallow the salty grit in my throat. "A bit."

Just then, Donovan's head popped above the dark surface of the water several feet away. His panic-stricken eyes searched the water rapidly before coming to rest upon Isaac and me. Relief was obvious on his face as he quickly stroked towards us. "You're hurt?" he asked immediately, treading rather close to me.

"It's nothing," I said as effortlessly as possible. My legs throbbed from both the wounds and sheer muscular fatigue. Trying to ignore these discomforts, I studied our rapidly-changing surroundings. The current bellow felt stronger than ever, and the water around us churned white with movement.

"It's rising!" Isaac suddenly exclaimed. I quickly followed his upward gaze to see that the doorway to our cell – our only exit – was becoming gradually closer by the second.

"We can swim right out!" Donovan shouted, smiling broadly.

I felt a spark of hope ignite inside me, which quickly excelled any other thought in my mind. "Yes!" I gasped breathlessly, nearly giddy with the notion of freedom.

Minutes later, the rising current began to calm, and the surface evened out about five feet below the doorway that was once so out-of-reach. Donovan was the first to scurry up the remainder of the rough stone wall, waving to us happily when he was safely above. Isaac followed soon after, and quickly assisted me from above when my footing proved unstable.

My chest weighed heavy with guilt when I looked down into the flooded chamber that had once held us captive. Though my actions had indirectly aided in our escape, my radical behavior was unjustified. A scowl overtook my face when I recalled the reason behind my outburst. "Isaac...," I began, turning to my companions.

They had already begun investigating the three dark hallways that led away from the cell door. Donovan watched curiously as Isaac returned to where I stood. "We must make haste," he chided gently, his eyes filled with unkempt energy.

"Isaac," I repeated, trying to arrange my thoughts as quickly as possible. "We cannot leave this place..."

Surprise flashed across his face. "What?" he demanded, brow furrowing. "What's gotten into you?"

I shook my head at his misunderstanding. "Vladimir – we must stop him before we make our escape. There's no telling what he'll do when he finds us missing."

He cocked an inquisitive eyebrow. "'Stop him'?"

I took a deep, steadying breath through my nose before saying, "We must kill him."

The words had scarcely left my lips before Donovan flashed into sight, staring up at me with wide eyes. "What?" he breathed, glancing between Isaac and me. "What do you mean? What has Lord Vladimir done to...?"

He fell silent when I began to shake my head. "Donovan, there are events at play that are beyond your understanding. If you wish to escape with Isaac and I –"

"No!" the boy shouted, a scowl contorting his innocent features. "I won't let you do that. I can't let you kill my lord!"

A sharp look from Isaac told me that I was treading on dangerous ground. Whether he would like to admit it or not, Donovan was a vital component to our escape. If he decided to use his blocking ability once again, there would be little to no chance of the Volturi finding us. And worse – we would be nearly powerless to escape. The gravest thing I could do at the moment was turn Donovan against us.

Summoning strength, I knelt in front of Donovan and rested my hands on his shoulders. He flinched minutely, but his eyes softened quickly as he gazed down at me. I struggled to keep my words soft, though the emotions behind them were all but gentle.

"Donovan, I've just discovered that Vladimir is my father. I hold no memories of him save for this: his needless murder of my human mother shortly after my birth." I paused when Donovan's eyes bulged, then continued. "I can't quite explain the anger that causes me to feel. The years I spent not knowing seem... distant. Not knowing that I... that I'm..." My bottom lip quivered as my chest compressed with grief. "A spawn of such evil," I finished, my voice below a whisper.

Donovan's wide eyes stared at me incessantly, absorbing every word without protest.

"So this is why he must pay for his sins," I said hesitantly, not quite sure I'd yet convinced him.

"With his life," Isaac finished, kneeling beside me as well. The humble gesture surprised me, causing me to look away from Donovan for a slight moment. Isaac nodded surely at me when he saw my hesitation. "There's no telling what atrocities he may commit in the future – he must be stopped."

A look of determination came into Donovan's eyes, and for a moment I doubted that his devotion lay with us. "I understand," he said, turning his chin up proudly. "I'm on your side, Cornelia."

Relief settled upon me like a blessing from above, and a small smile worked its way onto my face. Standing weakly to my feet, I released Donovan's shoulders and motioned to the unlit corridors behind me. "Lead the way, Donovan."

I just barely caught Isaac's wary glance before Donovan seized both of our hands and pulled us down the leftmost passageway. I stumbled along after his swift pace, catching myself on the rough walls after each clumsy stumble. My body was certainly taxed to its limit, but I urged myself to pull through. Finding Vladimir and escaping were our top priorities – nothing else mattered.

Since Isaac and I had long since lost our shoes, our footsteps were nearly silent against the stone floor. My shallow, labored breathing was the only remarkable sound to fill the silence. The walls and ceiling were barely distinguishable in the darkness that surrounded us, which caused me a great amount of worry. Should a conflict happen upon us, my fighting abilities would be severely limited by the low visibility. _If I am able to fight at all in this state..._

Donovan's steps slowed after a few minutes, during which we had taken several turns in the rather complex hallway system. It was reminiscent of when Donovan had led me to Vladimir's presence from my initial place of confinement. "The main hall is close..." He glanced from left to right when our path suddenly forked. "This way!"

"You're sure?" Isaac pressed, following reluctantly.

Donovan's response was ominously delayed. "...Yes."

We all came to a halt when a sudden, shrill scream echoed from above. My every muscle tensed at the sound. "_Mercy! Mercy!_" the voice screeched between painful cries, sending an uneasy chill up my spine.

"Marian!" Donovan yelled, panic filling his eyes as he dropped our hands simultaneously. "That's Marian's voice!" The very next moment, Donovan turned his back on us and bolted down the hallway toward the sound.

Isaac growled low in his throat irritably. "We need him," he hissed, eyes flashing with annoyance.

I bit the inside of my lip, trying to quickly think of a reasonable reaction. "Should we chase him?" I suggested urgently.

Isaac's ruby eyes were eerily clear through the darkness; I saw them take a quick sweep of me from head to toe. "Not both of us. Stay here," he instructed, motioning for me to remain where I was as he sprinted after Donovan.

My spirits fell. "Stay here?" I repeated incredulously, glancing around at my black surroundings. "Stay _here_?" My unbelieving scoff echoed through the corridor, bouncing off corners and crevices to which I was completely blind. I stepped back until my heel touched a wall, and then pressed my back against it, sharing my weight. "Stay here...," I said once more, unsure whether to laugh or to cry.

Obediently, I remained standing there in the darkness, hoping that Isaac would return soon. I became increasingly aware of my intense hunger and thirst as the minutes ticked away, leaving me more desperate by the second. My nerves waxed and waned as my thoughts tarried on the inevitable conflict ahead. Should I be confident in Donovan's loyalty? In the prospect of the Volturi coming to our rescue? Or perhaps my faith was misplaced and we were no match for the Romanians in any event. Nonetheless, my heart clenched painfully when I considered dying in that terrible place – dying by my father's hand, just as my mother had.

_But I would rather die honorably in the act of vengeance than here, alone and helpless._

It was that particular thought that pushed me to disobey Isaac's directive. I turned in the direction that Donovan had taken, certain that it lead back to the main hall, and dashed off into the darkness.

My bare feet stung against the cold, rough stone, but I paid them no attention. My mind was focused on the task ahead – find Vladimir, kill him; find Isaac and Donovan, escape. There was little else that I considered, though the prospect of encountering one or more of Vladimir's servants loomed darkly in my mind. My breath came sharply through my mouth as I ran, filling my chest with pain at each inhalation. Once again, I ignored this discomfort. _Find Vladimir, find Vladimir..._

I paused when the corridor split into three passageways, all equally sized and dark. Logic failed me as I considered which one to take. _I need to find a staircase... I need to travel upwards. _Growling softly, I continued to run in a straight line, ignoring the path's deviations to the left and right.

Minutes later, my body began to refuse to meet my commands. My feet lagged with every footstep; every inch of my flesh screamed for rest. "No, no, no," I breathed, trying to overpower my weakness. "Must go on..."

My foot suddenly caught on the uneven stone beneath me, and my momentum violently threw me to the ground. The palms of my hands were torn bloody against the jagged ground as I attempted to catch myself, and the lacerations on my knees were reopened in less than an instant. Warm blood left my veins with startling speed, painting the ground beneath me a deep crimson color. I gasped and rolled onto my back, wincing when my skin burned hotter than a furnace. White pain flashed before my eyes, dazing me with its strength. Tears formed in my eyes as my despair suddenly climaxed.

A while later, once I'd regained a reasonable amount of coherence, I dragged myself off the ground and stumbled to my feet. My legs felt like water as they held my weight – they were fatigued from both overuse and injury. I forced myself to breath in a regulated pattern as I began to limp along the passage, unaware of my direction. Blindly guiding myself against the wall with my hands, I began to make slow progress once again. My mind refused to clear the haze of pain and exhaustion. _Find Vladimir... find..._

"_Cornelia!_"

The voice sounded incredibly distant, as though I'd imagined it. I continued walking at an incredibly slow pace.

"_Cornelia!_"

This time it sounded further still, accompanied by a low ringing which seemed to originate within my own ears. I shook my head in an attempt to silence it.

"_Cornelia!_"

My knees suddenly gave out and I cringed, expecting another painful collision with the floor. The sensation was different this time – it was softer than expected, and not at all as painful as before. I felt cold pressure on my face and legs... hands, perhaps? My name was repeated over and over again by a voice I'd once known, and his name drifted into my mind just before I lost consciousness.

_Demetri..._

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><p><strong>Has Cora finally caught a break? Feel free to leave a review <strong>–<strong> I would love to hear from you.  
><strong>

**Next time: "The End – Part 2."**

**-Scarlet**


	61. Chapter 57: The End – Part 2

**Thank you for reviewing, ****bonniebeast****, ****North I-75****, ****Insanity is my second name****, ****Preciousfreedom****, and ****BlackRose1776****! And for the favs/follows, ****Natsokatla****, ****BrendaLovesCastiel****, and ****Darkest Women****. You guys are AWESOME.**

**This is the longest chapter yet (it's twice the size of my usual chapters) which is why it took me over a week to update. I wanted to tie up some (many) loose ends, while still including the scenes I'd originally planned for this chapter. I only proofread it once through, so forgive my typos.  
><strong>

**Warning: graphic violence ahead.**

**-Scarlet**

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><p><strong>Chapter 57: The End – Part 2<strong>

_January 6, 1942, morning  
><em>

_Muntenia, Greater Romania_

The cool, tingling sensation of liquid made its way past my lips, into my mouth, down my chin, and around my neck. _Am I drowning?_ My arms and legs fought feebly for control as I instinctively swallowed the substance that invaded my esophagus. _Water? Blood? Venom?_ My taste buds refused to give me an answer.

"Cornelia?"

I lashed out with blind resistance, throwing my fists wildly through the air as I struggled for sight. A dull gray sky filled my vision when my eyelids finally rose, and a deep inhalation of oxygen forced its way down my throat. As my strained lungs were sated with the sweet, fresh air, I settled my frantic movements and took in my surroundings.

The damp state of my clothing was my first observation – the dirt-colored skirt and blouse that I wore clung to my skin like a weeks-old bandage. I flinched with mild surprise when I felt a raindrop splash on my cheek, and immediately became aware that I was indeed outdoors. Upon attempting to move my legs, I found them sore and nearly immobile. The condition of my arms was nearly the same.

"Cornelia, can you hear me?"

The sudden voice caused my eyes to snap toward the source, and it took me several moments to focus on the dark figure that hovered above me. A crown of dark hair, an olive-toned face, and, finally, a pair of crimson eyes slowly became clear to my vision. My breath hitched in my throat when a note of recognition resounded through me, enhanced tenfold by his familiar, unwavering gaze.

"D-Demetri..." The name was an unceremonious croak on my lips, which immediately prompted a series of coughs. I blushed fiercely through it all when I realized that my head rested in his lap; his dark cloak blanketed the cold stone around us as he knelt, cradling my head.

His eyes fell from mine just a moment later, an all-too-familiar irritation filling them. After muttering something about "useless humanity," he thrust a cool leather pouch into my hands. "It was mostly full before you knocked it from my hands," he informed me tersely.

I felt liquid slosh inside as I lifted the pouch, bringing it into my field of vision. The stretched leather material felt familiar against my skin; Demetri had pressed the opening against my lips minutes before, forcing me to drink.

"Thank you," I whispered softly, distrusting the condition of my voice. I once again found my legs unable to move, causing me to frown in thought. _What happened to me? _My mind drew a blank at the question.

As if hearing my thoughts, "You were nearly unconscious when I found you," Demetri murmured. His eyes met mine briefly, and the thin patience in his glance caused me to squirm uncomfortably. "I carried you here after the others arrived."

"'The others'?" I repeated, my eyebrows drawing together.

"Yes," he sighed as his eyes met the heavens. An icy drizzle fell freely from the low-bearing clouds, causing a chill to sink deeply into my skin. "Half the Guard is here – Master Aro included."

My eyes widened at the statement, and a tidal wave of memories assaulted my mind. _Isaac, Romania, imprisonment... Vladimir. _The shock of reality jolted me to my feet, and set fire to my every sense as adrenaline coursed through my veins.

"Demetri, we must –" I stopped short when a wave of nausea washed through me, knotting my stomach and causing my head to swim. Groaning, I sank to my knees and clutched my throbbing temples. _Not now...!_

"No, Cornelia." Demetri's austere tone sounded as though it was miles away even though he stood right beside me. "You're safe now; it's out of your hands."

I shook my head vehemently, which caused a stab of pain at the base of my skull. Neither Demetri nor the Guard fully knew the dangers of the situation. Vladimir's goal of destroying human life, Donovan's possible treachery, Stefan's matter displacement ability, and a host of other perils could overpower even the strongest of the Guard. _Only I will be to blame if harm comes to anyof them._ The grief of these truths weighed on my soul.

"You do not understand," I told Demetri desperately, willing my body to summon strength. I squeezed my eyes shut when my stomach churned in protest. "If Stefan is able to... If Donovan has... If Isaac..." I gasped when another painful throb shot through my cranium. "Ah!"

"_Shut up_," Demetri snapped in Italian, surprising me into silence. Seconds later, I felt two chilly fingers beneath my chin, lifting until my hands fell away from my face. Cool leather appeared at my mouth. "Drink," he ordered.

I wanted to glare at him for his disrespect, but I couldn't raise my eyes out of shame for kneeling before of him so helplessly. Instead I let the cold water pass through my lips, grateful for the bland flavor and soothing temperature. Unfortunately, the stinging discomfort in my legs became increasingly difficult to ignore. _I hope I can walk in this condition. _I drank until the pouch was empty, which came far too soon.

"Feeling better?" Demetri asked, a hint of patronization behind the question.

I chose not to answer as I slowly rose to my feet, simply nodding my head. My bare toes curled against the wintery stone as the coldness seeped into my flesh; the wet breeze nipped at my flushed face. "Where are we?" I queried, glancing around at our surroundings.

"The 'rooftop' of this castle," Demetri replied amiably, gesturing about, "though it appears as if it was once enclosed."

I noted the tall, segmented remains of what appeared to be walls encompassing the "roof"; the large expanse of stone was worn smooth due to extended exposure to the elements. Sizable parts of the floor were also missing, which allowed the rain to fall into the dark level below. A shiver crept up my spine when I pictured losing my footing on the treacherous plane.

Stepping toward the nearest ledge, I peered over the broken rubble of wall to the ground below; my breath was immediately stolen from me. Hundreds of feet separated me from the earth, which consisted of acres of rolling, emerald hills. A dark, churning body of water bordered the fertile land, stretching toward the gray horizon as far as the eye could see. The violent water lapped at the northern ground level of the fortress, which was partially swallowed by the sea. Judging by the jagged, eroded appearance of the wall, the water had been clashing against it for a great number of years. I quivered at the haunting sight. _My cell._

"Why here...?" I asked, turning back to Demetri.

His lips formed a line for a moment before he replied. "I was instructed to escort you to safety while the others encounter the enemy." His eyes swept over my damaged legs before returning to my face. "Had I known you were so badly injured, I would've suggested we bring Santiago along."

I nearly smiled at the memory of Castle Volterra's resident Renaissance man (I couldn't imagine a single role which Santiago couldn't fill, even doctoring an injured hybrid); however, Demetri's demeaning tone teased my temper.

"I'm fine," I lied, clenching my fists.

Demetri quirked a dark eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yes," I snapped, glowering.

Demetri's droll, challenging gaze sparked a familiar sense of rivalry within me; one that reminded me of a snowy forest, a dark ship's cabin, a moonlit lake. I remembered that long, stressful year during which our strange relationship developed, and I also recalled the surprisingly pleasant terms on which we parted. A sudden pang of guilt filled my chest. _I should be nothing but grateful to him, especially now._

"Demetri, I..." I paused when a sudden look of dread overtook his face. "What's amiss –?"

"They've disappeared again," he growled, abruptly pacing to and fro. "My ability..."

I frowned determinately as my mind returned to the situation at hand. _Pleasantries between us can very well wait._ "Donovan, one of the Romanians – he has the ability to negate vampiric gifts, including mine."

Demetri froze on the spot, his back turned to me. During the next several moments of silence, I noticed several patches of dark blood on his cloak as it stirred gently in the wind. My eyes narrowed on the reddish patches. _Is it his or mine?_

"Truly?" he suddenly asked. I noticed a subtle hint of worry in his tone.

I nodded my head, and then shook it when I realized he wasn't looking at me. "Yes," I replied. "He allied himself with Isaac and I while the three of us were imprisoned... it's the main reason we were able to escape. Though... I assume that his loyalties have changed once again." A pang of sadness touched my heart when I recalled Donovan's spellbinding innocence.

Demetri remained as still as stone, letting the quietness stretch between us. I shifted on my numb, frozen feet to keep from becoming a statue myself. Then, he said, "What of Isaac?"

I reflected for a moment before speaking. "He left me... in the corridors. He chased after Donovan when he ran toward a woman's voice."

"'Left' you?" Demetri repeated, suddenly whirling on me. My shoulders tensed under his scrutinous, narrowed gaze. "Isaac helped you escape imprisonment and then '_left_' you?"

At his incredulous tone, I instantly felt defensive of Isaac. "For a higher cause, Demetri," I explained peevishly. "If Donovan has truly deserted us, our odds of victory are severely diminished." I paused to study his expression, which had faded into a dark, pensive glare. I sighed. "Aro, Jane, Alec, Renata – their powers will be inaccessible."

"I understand the concept, half-breed," he growled quietly. However, try as he may, he couldn't hide the anxiety that creased his brow as he said this.

I felt my eyes narrow unintentionally. "Then you realize the gravity of the situation, and that we're needed –"

We both heard the unearthly distortion at the same moment, and turned simultaneously toward the strange sound. _Stefan –! He must have heard us... or followed us?_The ancient vampire suddenly stood thirty feet from Demetri and I, accompanied by an elderly, scarlet-eyed man whom I didn't recognize. The later glared at me with unhindered disgust as he removed his hand from Stefan shoulder, which sent an icy arrow of fear straight through my chest.

I'd failed to voice my concerns over Stefan's displacement ability to Demetri; however, as I glanced at him, his expression held anything but surprise. His stance was rigid, but his eyes portrayed casual interest as he gazed across the roof at the ominously silent pair. "You are Stefan, I presume," he murmured, his quiet voice carried to them on the wind.

My curiosity burned for several moments as I grasped for an explanation. _Aro and his brothers must be aware of the Romanians' abilities... They fought against them for centuries after all._ It was only logical for Aro to inform the Guard about their advisory's powers, to prepare them for the necessary encounter. However, since Donovan was turned millenia after those ancient battles, the Volturi was doubtlessly oblivious to his dangerous gift. _They are in danger, every one of them._

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure, sir," Stefan replied, smiling drolly at Demetri.

"Demetri," he introduced himself, dipping his head slightly, "Royal Guard of the Volturi."

Stefan greeted him in return, bowing at the waist. Then, his affable expression darkened quite suddenly. "Guardsman, you have something which interests my brother greatly. May I have it back?"

_Vladimir is kin to Stefan? That makes him... my uncle? _The thought streaked through my mind like a shooting star, but was quickly outshined by another: _Did he just refer to me as an "it"?_

I hadn't realized that Demetri had been gradually pushing me behind himself until my field of vision was blocked by his back. When I attempted to move away, his hand tightened on my upper arm. "I'm afraid your brother may be disappointed by my answer," he said evenly, staring unflinchingly at Stefan.

I peeked around Demetri's shoulder to gauge Stefan's reaction. His thin, pallid lips pursed at that, and he flicked his hand forward while glancing at the vampire beside him. "Edward, if you would please..."

My eyes immediately snapped to the man's – Edward's – and my heart skipped a beat when a malicious grin settled on his lips. A light dusting of gray touched the roots of his raven black hair, implying that he'd been quite aged before his transformation. However, his physical form was anything but worn – the outline of defined muscles could be seen through his thin, white shirt. Two jagged lines were etched on the porcelain skin between his eyebrows, and the wrinkles around his lips told of a permanent frown. Judging by the lucid, water-like tone of his flesh, this vampire was many centuries old... perhaps dozens.

"Try not to harm her," Stefan instructed his underling.

Demetri's grip on my arm clenched painfully when Edward took an aggressive step toward us.

_He's nothing like the Edward I know..._

Suddenly, Demetri released my arm and shoved me back roughly. "Stay as far away from him as possible," he said, meeting my eyes for a slight moment. "Do not let him touch you."

I nodded hastily, scrambling back several feet as Demetri stepped forward to meet his opponent. An amused chuckle from Stefan caused me to lock eyes with him, which sent a warning chill through my body. At that moment, I doubted I was physically able to adequately defend myself without the use of my gift. Subconsciously, I tapped into my ability and found myself very capable of forming a shield. The small, white disc danced across my fingertips for less than a second before vanishing with a thought. _Has Donovan not truly betrayed me?_

Demetri was obviously waiting for Edward to attack first – his hands were clenched firmly at his sides, his knees were slightly bent, and his shoulders were angled forward. The steady drizzle of rain continued to fall, dampening our clothes and creating small puddles of water at our feet. I watched the elder vampire's movements carefully, trying to detect a flaw in his defensive posture. _He's experienced... is he also gifted?_

The thought had scarcely left my mind when Edward stretched a hand toward Demetri, palm outward, and muttered a string of words in a language I couldn't understand. Momentarily confused, my eyes darted to Demetri, who seemed just as puzzled as I, and then to Stefan, who only smiled as he watched events unfold. An unholy hissing sound filled my ears then, forcing me to refocus on Edward's actions. I jumped at the sight of his outstretched hand engulfed in flames; the raindrops boiled to vapor upon contact with the blaze.

His next action was to simply flick his fingers, which sent a sizable spike of fire flying toward Demetri with shocking speed. Fortunately, Demetri was fast enough to evade the fireball – barely. I heard a quiet singe of fabric as the blast brushed his cloak, accompanied by a near-silent gasp of surprise.

"Demetri!" the panicked cry escaped me without thought, which immediately drew Edward's attention to me. A second fireball was hurled from his fingertips before Demetri had even regained his footing. The blinding ball of light plowed toward me, accompanied by a staggering heat that intensified with every inch it neared me. Terrified, I rose my hands instinctively and brought a thin shield into existence to protect me just in time. With the force of a minor explosion, the white mist shattered upon impact, dispersing much of the blaze along with it. Faint licks of fire touched my skin before vanishing completely; I cried out in pain and shock as I staggered backwards.

_I can't open my eyes!_ I floundered about for several seconds, completely mindless to the world around me. The raindrops on my scorched skin felt like tiny daggers sinking into my flesh. I felt trapped by pain and blindness – intangible enemies which could not be fought. The cold ground was a welcome sensation as I collapsed flaccidly.

Time passed. Seconds, perhaps minutes. I'd never before felt so senseless while still conscious.

"Shush, Cornelia. Stay with Demeri. Demetri, take her."

"Yes, yes. Felix, protect Heidi. That man –"

"I know. Do what you must to save her, Demetri. That's our main purpose here."

"Yes, yes! Go, Felix, _now_!"

Gradually, my senses reawakened, permitting me to use my limbs and open my eyes; however, lethargy clung tightly to me like a warm blanket in the dead of night. I groaned and reached up to flick the rainwater from my eyes, which allowed me to open them fully. Once again, I found Demetri to be my first sight, followed by a flash of color in the background. Grasping, I shot upright with all haste.

"No, Cornelia," Demetri snapped, pushing me back down when I attempted to stand. "They are here to protect you. Do not endanger yourself further."

I shook my head at his absurdity as I watched my two "protectors" locked in heated combat. Yet another hostile vampire had appeared on the roof; I recognized him as Darius, one of the Romanians whom I'd originally met some weeks ago in Michigan. Stefan seemed to have disappeared once again, leaving Edward to fight alongside Darius. The two made a formidable pair, it seemed.

"Felix, Heidi!" I exclaimed, watching the two of them weave through a swarm of fire and fists. "We must help them!" I struggled to remove Demetri's restraining hand from my shoulder.

"_Cornelia_," Demetri growled, obviously frustrated, "stop this at once."

I regret to have considered biting his hand in exchange for my freedom. Though my physical and mental strength was nearly depleted, I felt the insatiable need to aid Felix and Heidi in battle – they were my comrades, my companions, my friends. I despised Demetri's apparent disregard for those he certainly held dear. "What are you saying? They could be outmatched!" I cried.

"They'll manage," he said briskly, undeterred. His eyes told of his anxiety, though his voice did not. "Your safety is paramount."

Withholding a scoff, I stilled. He was correct on some levels – I would indeed injure myself further if I entered combat. _But how can he just sit here while...? _I felt a wave of dread wash through my chest when I once again pictured one of the Volturi harmed... or worse. _It would be no one's fault but my own, surely._

"Deme-tri..." I paused to take a shaky breath when my voice faltered. His impatient eyes met mine and, this time, stayed. "If one of them was hurt... if one of them died –" My throat cinched up, refusing to allow further words to be spoken.

His facade broke then – an indescribable amount of sadness flooded his burgundy eyes and pulled his tight lips downward into a frown. I matched his expression as I pictured a rather dim future, one in which the blame of reality was mine alone to bear, one wrought by my own hands. _No, not mine, but Vladimir's._

Demetri nodded, his eyes suddenly sharp with determination. "I understand," he said, assisting me into a standing position.

He swiftly righted the cloak around my shoulders when it slipped, and I grasped the thick, wool material as well. Pulling it close to my neck, I recognized it as Demetri's – singed, wet, and bloody. "Thank you," I murmured, grateful for the mild protection and comfort as I tied it securely around my neck.

When I found that we were quite near the edge of the roof, I leaned heavily against a broken portion of the stone wall, fighting lightheadedness. "Help them," I whispered, gazing across the vast expanse of rooftop.

"You're able to swim, correct?"

I was taken aback by the abrupt question, but nodded nonetheless.

"Good."

He then seized my arm and pulled me away from the wall, guiding me to an open ledge of the roof. The view was truly breathtaking – the waves of the ocean were white-crested with turbulence, and the distance to the ground was impressive if not frightening. Visibility in all directions was fairly good considering the foul weather.

Stiffening immediately as we neared the ledge, I dug my fingernails into his arm as if grappling there for my life. "Wh-What are you doing?" I demanded uneasily, watching the rolling sea far below.

"This is the only way down, unless you wish to gallivant through the corridors again." Through it all, his tone held a slight hint of mocking.

My jaw unhinged. "You _must_ be joking!" This comment was met with silence. "I will die for sure!" I insisted incredulously.

"Of course not," Demetri chided, easing me closer to the edge by applying pressure to my shoulders from behind. "Be sure to angle your fall into a dive," he instructed, aligning my arms into a parallel position in front of me. His hands pressed my palms together, and held them there. "And close your eyes," he added with his lips close to my ear.

Fear nearly paralyzed me. My teeth clamped onto my bottom lip nervously, and my knees shook so badly I could barely stand on my own. In that moment, death seemed more welcoming than the riotous waves and jagged seaside so far beneath me. _I will land on a rock. I will land on a rock and die. _"D-Demetri –"

Then, with a firm hand on my back, Demetri trust me forward into thin air. I will never forget the hellish feeling in my chest the millisecond before I plunged to my invariable death. A thousand demons could not summon hatred equivalent to what I felt as my apparent doom approached. As the wind rushed passed my ears, rendering me deaf to any other sound, I swore to deliver Demetri's deathblow in this life or the next.

The icy plunge into the water came sooner than I expected, surprising me in an already impossible situation. I hadn't angled my descent as Demetri had instructed, but as fortune would have it, I hit the churning surface of the water head-first. My body plowed deep beneath the waves, immersing me several yards below the surface. I snorted and choked when sea water jetted into my nasal passage, all the while trying to find my bearings in the silent expanse of sea. The water-logged cloak restricted my movements and pulled downward on my neck as I struggled, causing me to panic all the more. I dared not open my eyes in the salty-tasting water as I stroked in the direction I prayed was heavenward.

My lungs strained for oxygen as I swam and swam for what seemed like endless minutes. My muscles screamed for rest that I knew would be fatal – fatal yet peaceful. That twisted concept of peace called to me from some dark corner of the sea, beckoning me into its numbing embrace. _Anywhere but here... I never thought to die at sea..._

I was hardly aware of my body surfacing moments later, tugged and tossed about by forceful waves. Half a breath of air entered my lungs before I was sucked beneath the waves once again. Feeling myself tumbling below the current once more, I decided to put up an effort since peace seemed so unforgiving. I held onto my tiny amount of air as I flailed my arms upward once more, determined to reach the surface again. _It can't be far!_

Indeed it wasn't – clear, sweet air graced my mouth as my head broke the surface. Fighting for dominance, I grappled with each wave as it attacked with efforts to pull me under. I forced my eyes to open, immediately wincing at the stinging sensation of the salty water. My vision was a vital tool – I glimpsed my surroundings with each crescent as I rode the waves up and down.

_Land!_ A dull, brownish rock came into sight at the climax of a particularly high wave. I struggled to make progress toward it while still keeping my head above water, which proved trying. However, I was more determined than ever. _I will live._

Suddenly, I felt myself being drawn backwards, as though pulled by an invisible force. Glancing back, I gasped at the sight of a fifteen-foot-tall wave barreling toward me. Fortunately, my mind worked quickly to form a plan. Taking a deep breath of air, I dove beneath the waves and braced myself for the inevitable impact as I felt the powerful water curl closer and closer. As the wave finally reached me, the violent effect threw my body to and fro like a ragdoll, disorienting me greatly and filling my nose with water once again.

_I will live!_ I stroked to the surface with renewed energy and let out a ferocious howl when I emerged yet again. Locating the rock again quickly, I clawed my way through the waves towards my goal. I timed the next crescent in alignment with the rock well enough, which resulted in the wave projecting me onto the half-submerged rock with a wet _slap_. A smile spread on my face as I rose unsteadily to my feet on the dangerous incline.

I gazed over the dark, undulating water, noting that the taller waves caved in quite a ways offshore._ That must have been where I was pulled under._

A frenzied laugh suddenly bubbled up in my chest, spilling over my lips like the crazed mumblings of a mental case.

_I battled the sea._

The rocky shoreline proved quite difficult to traverse, though it was nothing compared to the sea's anger. Wind whipped the salty sea spray into my face from seemingly every direction, and my wet hair clung to my cheeks and neck like seaweed. I strained as much water as I could from my heavy cloak, and used the remainder as a sort of insulation to capture my limited body heat. Nonetheless, my hands shook from fright and fatigue, and my feet dragged with each step taken. _At least I'm too numb to feel pain anymore..._

Upon reaching the grassy knoll above the thin strip of sandy beach, I collapsed to the ground for some much-needed rest. The tall grass scratched my cheek as I nuzzled the damp earth, unusually grateful for the solid land beneath my body. The light rain created a pleasant sensation on my back as it descended peacefully from above. I felt my body relax substantially as I continued to lie there. _Just a short sleep, perhaps..._

Not long thereafter, I felt the earth vibrate beneath me with approaching footfalls. I couldn't find the willpower within me to react as they grew progressively louder and closer.

"My lord, she's here!"

My mind shouted at me to open my eyes, to raise my head... but my body simply refused. It felt as though the two were completely disconnected; together yet separate.

"No need to worry, Vlaidmir. Her heart beats still."

The gentle patter on my back ceased then, and I flinched when a raindrop landed squarely on my closed eyelid. Out of reflex, I reached up to brush the offending water away and cautiously blink. As my vision slowly cleared and my brain slowly processed the imagery before me, I heard myself take a sharp, fearful breath.

"Your friends have a strange way of greeting you, Cornelia," Vladimir said, cocking his head to the side as a devious smile played on his lips.

His presence was ethereal – so much so that I momentarily doubted my eyes. The dark lapels of his coat fluttered in the slight breeze, and his hair – pale as ash – licked his chin like the wisps of a willow tree. His translucent skin appeared as flawless as the overcast sky, and his ruby eyes held a dark, captivating knowledge. When he offered his hand with a gentle smile, I had no reason to refuse him.

His hand felt like the softest silk stretched over bone and sinew, yet his grip was firm as he helped me stand. I stumbled on the uneven grass and he steadied me with a hand on my waist. The coldness of his body, so near to mine, seeped into me like a dubious warning from a stranger. As the sleepy haze cleared from my mind, I frowned deeply and roughly pushed him away.

"At least they didn't lock me away like an _animal_," I spat in retort, teetering dangerously on my feet. _Find strength, Cornelia!_

The smile faded from his pale lips and they formed a grim line; he regarded me with a pensive gaze. "You know I have only the best intentions at heart. You will thank me in future, my dear," he said, his voice as smooth as oil.

I folded my matted, gritty hair behind my ears with a careless chuckle. "You will never have my gratitude – I guarantee it," I said without thought, slightly distracted by the scenery.

The Romanians' fortress stood tall and dark against the clouded sky; the earth-toned rock from which it was made seemed to bleed as the rain streaked down its every surface. It truly was damaged by time – large sections of the castle were forfeit to the elements, most notably the northern side which bordered the sea. It slouched into the rocky shore as if it wished to become one with the ocean, and thick moss festered where the water periodically clashed against the wall. In essence, it appeared to be the uninhabited ruins of a castle lost to time.

Flashes of light caught my eye from the very top, nearly ten stories above my head. _The fight continues. _I was momentarily reminded of my worry for Felix and Heidi... Demetri as well, along with the rest of the Guard. The gifted among the Romanians were formidable opponents, especially against those who were unable to use their powers.

Refocusing my attention on Vladimir, I found him watching me intently. I returned the stare with growing confidence. "I know very well of your intentions," I faltered for a moment before adding, "_father_."

At the word, his jaw visibly tensed and his eyes flickered with surprise. After several moments of utter silence, a pleased smile overtook his face. "Shrewd girl," he purred approvingly. "You deduced the truth in such a short time..." He turned to face me fully then, and rested his boney hands on my shoulders as a teacher praising a student.

I jerked sharply away, causing the damp hem of my cloak to slap against my bare and battered knee. Hissing quietly in pain, I turned away to hide my exasperated expression. Biting back tears, "I had some assistance solving the puzzle," I whispered.

His delighted chuckle caused my hair to stand on end. "Impressive nonetheless," he cheered, and then his tone became more serious. "My offer stands yet." He moved silently to stand to my right, the wind gently combing his hair as we faced it together. "I offer you a home which has stood the test of millenia, peaceful and secure..."

_"Peaceful and secure" even as the Volturi stand at your doorstep?_ I nearly voiced the thought aloud when a cool pressure on my hand caused me to jump in place. I looked sharply to my left to find Donovan there, gazing up at me with his wide, innocent eyes. When my shock became a hesitant smile, he grasped my hand fully with his own, squeezing tightly. He smiled brighter than the sun, and the soft rays touched and warmed my heart.

Distantly, Vladimir continued, "I offer you family, my daughter."

I became a frozen statue at the statement, eyes locked with Donovan's and thoughts thrown into a frenzy.

_Family?_ Family was foreign to me. Though I may have tried to find kin in the werewolf clans, in Carlisle, in Jasper, in the Volturi, in the Cullens... I didn't truly know the meaning of family. I'd always believed it to be more than blood – it was a common bond forged through common experiences. It was knowing and loving another in a way liken to nothing else. It was trust; it was companionship.

However, a new meaning began surfacing in my mind. Vladimir was my father. There was no denying it – I had no reason to disbelieve Isaac's account of his journey to the past and Vladimir himself had confirmed it. It was also possible that Stefan was my uncle, if not by blood then by bond. Their coven certainly respected their leaders and valued their safety, which could constitute a familial tie. In that light, Vladimir's offer seemed not so out-of-reach. Indeed, the admiration in Donovan's eyes as he stared at me was certainly genuine – perhaps akin to that of a brother?

_Mother._

The singular thought sunk itself into my conscious with the force of a meteor hitting the earth. _What on earth are you thinking?_ a voice demanded from some part of my mind. Vampires like Darius and Edward could never be called my brothers – vampires who had toyed with me and harmed me could only be viewed as opponents, competition. Furthermore, a man such as Vladimir could never merit my love and respect like good fathers should. He was a selfish, immoral, petty, and murdering monster who'd lived a thousand years too many.

My gaze then lifted from Donovan and settled on Vladimir's affable eyes. The thought that rang as clearly as church bells in my mind was simple, convincing, and true: _This man murdered my mother in cold blood._ A surge of renewed hatred poured through my veins, followed shortly after by a fresh dose of adrenaline.

I easily tore my hand from Donovan's grip.

"_You_," I growled, pointing accusingly at my father, "are a monster." I took slight pleasure in the fact that his expression drained of cordiality at the spoken truth. "You don't _care_ about relationships or family – all you _want_ is power. You want slaves to do your bidding without thought or independence!" I gestured wildly to Donovan, who flinched at each word I spoke.

Vladimir protested immediately, "Cornelia, you know that's far from the truth –"

"I know the truth, Vladimir. I _lived_ the truth!"

If he was intimidated by my aggressive posture and tone, he didn't show it on his face. I suddenly desired him to be intimidated; I wanted him to fear me like none other.

"I recall the first day we met, Vladimir... _Did you think I would forget?_" I roared, my finger coming within inches of his face. I felt my blood pump through my veins faster than it ever had before, polluting me with primal rage and violence. My voice then reached an uncanny, piercing pitch, "YOU KILLED HER!"

He still showed no emotion as my words hung in the air around us, cluttered by my storming emotions. He simply watched me, studying me, judging me. What did he think, I wonder? Was I merely a black sheep he wished to herd back into his fold? Was I a tool he wished to dominate? A nuisance he wished to exterminate? It mattered naught to me at the time – my only desires were to make him _cower_ as I had, _scream_ as my mother had, and _burn_ like every slob of his ilk should.

I reared my hand back, summoning every particle of strength in my body and focusing them into a razor-sharp shield at my fingertips. Time slowed as I planned the blow – a clean cut across the neck would sever his head, leaving only the limbs to blindly retaliate. He may dodge or perhaps catch my arm before the stroke was complete, but one way or another, he would die by my hand. I heard a crazed shout – was it me? I didn't pause to consider.

And then Stefan was there. And then he was not.

My shielded hand swiped through thin air. I blinked, disoriented, and then turned toward the sound of voices bickering a short distance away. Donovan cowered behind me with eyes as wide as saucers, silently watching.

"– must stop this fruitless obsession with her, Vladimir. Our clan is falling apart because of her!"

"Silence, brother. The coven stands –"

I suddenly understood. _Stefan placed himself between us using his ability the moment I planned to strike. He took Vladimir to safety in the blink of an eye._ A moment of marvel overtook me at the sheer potential of the unique gift before its owner's voice caught my full attention.

"Our enemies press our lines and Edward has already fallen. It's _hopeless_!" Stefan raged, shouting in Vladimir's face. The unusual display of emotion took me by surprise, and I felt Donovan tremble behind me.

Vladimir's stoic expression remained unchanged, and he'd seemed to have lost the will to speak. I watched him carefully as I slowly took a step forward...

Felix and Afton appeared so quickly that my peripheral vision didn't have a chance to track them. In a blur of black and white, they flanked Vladimir – Felix seized his neck from behind and Afton caught his torso from the front. Stefan immediately vanished. With a quick, jerking motion, the two efficiently rent my father's body asunder with a sickening snap of bone and flesh. My lungs refused to expand as I watched the grass beneath their feet become a puddle of blackish blood and gore. The remains immediately caught fire from the match that Felix produced, and ignited with an unholy hissing sound.

The flames were nearly black.

"Felix, Afton, excellent work! Excellent!" a light voice approved from behind me.

I stood motionless, staring at the burning remains, disbelieving my own eyes. All sound and color seemed blurred and distant for the next several moments. Felix caught my eye as he walked toward me, smiling sadly when he took in my ragged appearance. Blood as dark as pitch stained his white collar and dripped from his hands. He gently touched my shoulder in a small act of comfort as he passed by me. I shivered at the contact.

"Demetri, where is the other – Stefan?" the same voice continued.

"I'm uncertain..."

"He seems to have vanished, Aro."

"Yes, dear friend, I did not anticipate such an event."

"Master Aro, only three Romanians remain. Perhaps one of them –"

"Cornelia?"

Snapping from my trance, I cringed away from the hand on my shoulder and whirled on the one who had addressed me. "Isaac," I sighed, hastily catching my breath. I looked up at him to find him smiling; I hesitantly returned it.

"Well done," he said, resting a hand on my shoulder.

I nodded, unsure how to respond. _This was just another mission to him, I suppose. _"Likewise. Thank you," I said weakly, patting his hand with my chilled fingers. They quivered horribly.

"Indeed!" that cheery voice agreed. Isaac stepped aside to allow Aro to greet me, and I quickly stooped into a bow at the sight of him, humbled by his presence. He gestured for me to stand with a wave of his hand, a bemused smile on his face. "This was quite a feat for you, dear one."

Renata stood close beside him with rare approval in her sharp, hawkish eyes, and Chelsea smiled at me with sincere assurance. Heidi waved excitedly when I spotted her standing to the side with Felix and Demetri. Beside them, Edward and Carlisle stood with twin expressions of relief; Carlisle smiled warmly when our eyes briefly met. I glanced from one familiar face to the next as an overwhelming sense of gratitude poured from my heart, filling my body from head to toe.

My misty eyes returned to Aro a moment later. "Thank you, sir, I... I don't know what would have... had you not..." I flushed deeply when words were lost to me. Shyly, I reached out my hand to find his already offered.

However, when my hand slipped into his, a deep frown sank into his features. "Still my gift eludes me...," he murmured, withdrawing his hand. Cocking a thin eyebrow, he swept his hand toward three cowering figures that I hadn't noticed before. They knelt in the grass amidst the Guard. "Perhaps you, my dear, can solve the mystery of our missing abilities, hm?"

An icy chill seized me as I glanced over the figures – Darius, Marion, and Donovan. Neither Darius nor Marion chose to raise their eyes from the ground; both wore deep scowls of shame. Donovan, however, stared up at me with a passionate expression that stole the breath from my lungs. _Hatred. _His crimson eyes burned with fiery resentment that tore apart my heartstrings one by one. My stomach twisted into knots when the boy bared his teeth and growled at me, low in his throat.

Why did Donovan hate me at the very last? It's a question to which I may never find the answer. Was it because he'd trusted me? Because I'd showed him kindness where others would only show rage? Because I'd spoken gently where others would only shout and curse? In any case, I felt dastardly, ashamed to even meet his eyes. _He trusted you, traitor,_ a voice mocked from my mind. I shook my head vehemently to silence it, retorting, _No, he trusted Vladimir._

I glanced at Isaac over my shoulder, wondering why he hadn't identified Donovan's ability to Aro in the first place. He gave me an encouraging nod as if to say, "You have the honors."

It didn't feel very honorable; it felt as if my heart was wrenched from my chest and replaced with a cold, dead rock.

_There is no other alternative._

_He is a danger._

_He is a threat._

_He is an enemy._

"I-It's the child," I whispered, knowing that every ear would hear me.

Donovan's anger melted into fear as Felix and Demetri approached him at Aro's signal. In an instant, panic and regret welled up within me as Donovan's eyes silently pleaded for mercy, seconds before Felix's hand closed around his pale, slim neck –

Foreign hands slipped over my eyes from behind as a horrific shriek reached my ears, causing electricity to streak through my nervous system. It was Isaac shielding me from the gruesome scene, which was yet another death at my expense. The electricity was replaced by a subdued tingling that caused me to feel nauseous. Eyes closed tightly, I turned toward him and buried my face in the crook of his shoulder, allowing a pained sob to tear through my chest. He stroked the top of my head soothingly as my tears began to flow freely.

Thankfully, Isaac gently guided me away from the gathering as Aro began discussing the fate of the two remaining Romanians. I felt lightheaded and ill, so I withdrew from his embrace and thanked him. Dismissing himself, he turned to join his comrades.

As I attempted to collect myself, I became distracted by a suffocating aroma. Turning toward it, I felt my heart skip a beat at the sight.

Just smoldering embers remained of my father, coal black and singeing the tall grass around them. Nearing it, I sunk to my knees before the putrid mound and buried my dampened face in my hands. Emotions flowed through me like a river flooding its banks, overwhelming and uncontrolled. My every joint trembled in awe of what had occurred. It was unbelievably horrifying yet sickeningly fulfilling. _Am I just as monstrous as he?_

Arms encircled me from behind, drawing me back into a lean and welcoming frame. "Of course not, Cornelia," Edward sighed, as if irritated by the notion. "He was a monster unto himself. True evil."

Tears overpowered my senses – tears of joy and tears of hate – and I knew that one day I would find peace with this moment. _One day, but not today. _"It's over, Edward. It's over," I breathed, repeating the phrase again and again as I clutched at his hands.

"Yes, Cornelia." I heard the familiar smile in his voice, and it brought me boundless joy as my consciousness faded. "Rest now."

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><p><strong>Obviously Stefan will be the only Romanian to arrive at the end of <strong>_**Breaking Dawn**_**. *chuckle* Anyway, did Vladimir deserve to die? How about Donovan? Review and let me know.**

**I considered ending Part 4 right here, but I decided to write two more chapters for some closure. Next time: "Never Trust a Romanian."**

**-Scarlet**


	62. Chapter 58: Never Trust a Romanian

**Hey readers, sorry for the delay! Thank you for reviewing, Preciousfreedom, bonniebeast, BlackRose1776, and Insanity is my second name. And thanks for faving/following, Jazz Is My Lil Ninja.**

**This is basically a recap chapter for Part 4. Hope it's not too boring.**

**-Scarlet**

**P.S. See, Insane? I don't have to change my user name after all. XD**

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><p><strong>Chapter 58: Never Trust a Romanian<strong>

_January 13, 1942, 4:35 p.m._

_Volterra, Italy_

I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt cold fingers curl around my neck, and my shoulders stiffened with the fear of what was to come. "Please, wait!" I gasped, clutching my hands together in my lap.

Heidi sighed in frustration, removing her hands from my matted hair. "Cornelia, we've discussed this. We've exhausted every other avenue. Your hair simply _must be cut_!" She tugged on a particularly nasty bundle of tangles to accentuate her last three words.

Flinching slightly, I sighed as the plain reality nearly brought me to tears. "But...," I mumbled, gazing at my reflection in her dimly-lit vanity. "But, I..."

My hair reached my elbows in length, though it would've appeared much longer if I had managed to work out the tangles. It was matted to an extreme and nothing – not the finest tooth combs, not any hair oil, not even a special concoction from Paris designed for exactly this – could save my poor hair. Heidi had reluctantly dragged me to her chambers and produced a silver pair of scissors with the fateful words, "It's the only way."

"I know you don't want to, Cornelia," Heidi sighed, gently pawing my entangled locks. She met my eye in the vanity mirror, and smiled sadly. "It'll grow back, right?"

I begrudgingly muttered, "Yes."

Nodding contentedly, she gathered my hair together with her fingers just above my shoulders. "It will be about as long as Jane's, darling..."

"As _short _as Jane's," I amended, frowning. "I've never cut it that short before."

Heidi released my hair and clapped her hands together. "It's exciting to try new things! I once curled my hair _outwards_ instead of inwards and the result was _devastating_," she giggled, staring off as she reminisced.

I sighed again. "'Devastating' in the good sense, I hope." Reaching up, I gathered my hair and folded it under twice in an attempt to picture the new length. I pursed my lips in disapproval. _Boyish._

"But, of course," she insisted, stepping back a bit to survey me. "Darling, your hair will look lovely no matter the length. I'm sure you'll grow to love it in time." She smiled charmingly.

Staring back at her reflection in the mirror, I felt a bit of my resolve crack away. I shook my head in defeat, sighing, "If you say so..."

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Discretion is a rather unappreciated effort in Castle Volterra. Though the massive and elegant castle is home to as little as twenty vampires, it is painfully difficult for anything to go unnoticed. A missing person, for example, or a change in someone's disposition. Or, perhaps, a new haircut.

Felix was the first to witness the aftermath of my hair disaster – he had grinned uncontrollably and spouted halfhearted compliments. Soon after, though I'd attempted to sneak discretely to the basement kitchen for a bite to eat, I was intercepted by Chelsea. She stifled a laugh behind elegant fingertips upon seeing me, and immediately asked to touch my shortened locks. I obliged easily, though the product which Heidi used to style my hair into tight curls gave it a course and brittle texture. Before departing, Chelsea offered to teach me several tricks which she personally used on her shoulder-length hair.

_Too bad my hair is ear-length..._

I eventually arrived at the kitchen, feeling substantially less hungry than before. Heidi and I had stocked the small, outdated kitchen with fresh vegetables, meats, and spices from the local market during my week spent in Volterra. These foods, which I mostly stored in a large icebox that required fresh ice daily, were an invaluable asset to my physical recovery. Protein and iron fortified my damaged muscles and aided greatly in repairing broken tissue. At least, that was what Carlisle insisted on a daily basis.

_Carlisle._ Though rather evasive and withdrawn, Carlisle had been immensely supportive during his stay at the castle. Edward had confided in me that he – along with the rest of the Cullens – felt guilty for "allowing" such horrific circumstances to befall me. He recounted the tale of Alice's vision, and that he and Carlisle had called upon the Volturi as a result of it. I continuously asserted that the situation had been inevitable, and that no individual person was solely to blame. I couldn't have run from it no matter who was there to protect me; Vladimir would've found me one way or another.

Edward had eventually agreed, through much persuasion on my part, and ended the discussion with, "It's incredibly difficult for fate to be challenged, but you and Isaac seem to have done so quite successfully."

I felt a burst of pride as I recalled the look of fascination on his face as he'd said this. _Challenged fate indeed._

A faintly bruised apple sated my hunger in less than a minute, and I then decided to hazard the journey back to my own chambers. _If anyone sees me, so be it. _Heidi had departed from the castle on business shortly after styling my hair, leaving me quite alone for the rest of the evening.

I fussed with my hair to no end as I strolled through the tall corridors of the castle. Though the "holding oil" that Heidi had applied smelled wonderful, it quickly began to irritate my skin. _Is it worth such discomfort?_ The image of my trimmed, frizzy hair before the treatment drifted into my mind, and I decided that yes, it was certainly worth it.

My steps slowed when I sensed a presence approaching from the corridor ahead of me; I took a moment to identify the scent that accompanied it. Halting completely, I sighed to myself and waited for Edward to appear around the corner. I recalled that he and Carlisle had departed earlier that afternoon to hunt in the forest nearby the castle, which Carlisle had used as his hunting grounds when he himself resided with the Volturi. Sure enough, moments later, a familiar face and a bright smile greeted me.

I dipped my head in greeting, causing a clump of stiff hair to fall from behind my ear. "Edward," I murmured, not bothering to hide my self-conscious thoughts.

"Hello, Cornelia," he replied, chuckling lightly. His amber eyes, as bright as the sun, strayed from my face for only a split second. "It's not half as bad as you think," he said almost immediately.

I pressed my lips together to stifle a retort, knowing that every word from his mouth was biased and tempered just for me. _Perhaps he thinks the truth is too much of a burden._

At this, his laughter was unfettered and genuine; it echoed against the ceiling and produced a small smile on my face. Stepping forward, he seized the loose strand of my hair and replaced it gently behind my ear. He seemed hesitant to speak. "The truth is... you look... _modern_."

I deadpanned at the word. _Modern is... good? _"Honestly?"

"Yes," he confirmed, clasping his hands behind his back. "The twentieth century suits you, Cornelia."

Taking the assessment with a grain of salt, I smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Edward. My nerves were beginning to wear," I said lightly, resiting the urge to scratch above my ear.

"You were returning to your room?" he inquired, gesturing in the direction I'd been traveling.

"Oh, yes. Walk me there, will you?"

"Of course."

We walked in companionable silence for several minutes. I enjoyed the rhythmic noise of his footsteps, wooden soles against marble. The common sounds of life had become a great comfort to me after my month-long imprisonment in Romania. I craved the sweet sounds of music, laughter, and even silence. Certainly, those past days in Volterra had been incredibly restoring and therapeutic.

"Was something else bothering you?" Edward suddenly asked.

Glancing at him, I recalled my previous worry before Heidi had addressed the issue of my hair. "Oh..." I shook my head to clear the thought. "It's nothing." _Aro will summon me when he summons me._

Edward opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it. He nodded. "I see."

Changing the subject, I asked, "Where is Carlisle?"

"I assume he's still hunting," he said. "He asked me to return here to check on you."

I nearly scoffed aloud. "_Check on me." It's not as though I'm an invalid. _"Ah," I responded vaguely, staring at my feet as I walked.

"He's merely concerned," Edward said defensively, "as am I."

I sighed, regretful of my unspoken reaction. "Yes, I know. I'm very grateful for your help, but, as you know, I'm recovering swiftly."

"Indeed," he said with forced assurance, falling silent once again.

Several moments later, we turned into the long, empty hallway leading to my chambers. The paintings and tapestries on the walls were unchanged and familiar as ever, yet another comfort. Though an often disquieting and dangerous environment, the castle certainly felt like a slice of home. _As home as anything could feel to me, I suppose._

An idea struck when I spied the half-open door of the music room, several yards down from the entrance of my room. I'd regretfully spent little time there since arriving. "Edward, have you visited the music room?" I piped, peering up at him.

A smile crossed his lips. "Why, yes, I have."

I balked. "Have you?"

"Heidi showed me yesterday evening."

Thinking for a moment, "I retired early last evening...," I murmured pensively. I then grinned mischievously. "Did you two enjoy yourselves?"

Edward nodded, coughing into his fist, and I immediately knew why Heidi had invited him to the music room. _She's still keen on him, after all these years..._

"_Cornelia_," Edward implored, emphasizing my name to halt the meandering of my thoughts. "Please, spare me."

I bit my tongue to keep from giggling like a child. "She truly is lovely," I said, adding quickly, "if you don't cross her."

He chuckled, and then sighed dramatically. "I hope she didn't take my indifference for ill manners, then."

My cheeks flushed pink as I resisted the laughter in my chest. "Edward! What did you say?"

Shrugging, he replied, "I complimented her hospitality and focused _very hard_ on my triplets."

Unsubdued laughter burst forth and shook my entire frame, causing my steps to falter for a moment. _Felix will be jealous!_ "Oh, dear..." I sighed, wiping moisture from the corner of my eye. "Who taught you to be such a gentleman?"

Edward laughed with me for a moment, steadying me with a hand on my shoulder, and then his tone grew a bit more somber. "My mother, Carlisle... and you."

Regaining my composure, I gazed up at him and felt warmed by his sweet smile. _Heidi would never appreciate him enough. _I grasped his hand lightly with my own, guiding him towards the music room. "A duet or two, perhaps?"

"Wonderful," he said earnestly, taking the lead. "It's certainly been long enough. You haven't dropped your skills, have you?" He glanced back at me as we entered the room, wearing a lopsided smirk.

I sniffed haughtily, tilting my chin upwards with melodramatic flair. "What an unimaginable notion."

Our musical showdown was hardly recognized before Demetri interrupted quite suddenly, claiming that my presence was desired in the throne room. A frog immediately jumped into my throat upon hearing the news; though I had expected it eventually, it would be the first time that Aro and I spoke since returning from Romania. More specifically, the first time he would use his ability to see my thoughts in _many_ years. My deepest experiences, opinions, and inner thoughts would be revealed to him in less than a moment upon touch. Even after experiencing his power several times, the very thought of it still struck me with nerves. _It's something one doesn't become accustomed to, I suspect._

Edward promised a "rain check" on our duet as we bid each other goodbye, and I made a note to visit the library later to research the strange laughed briefly when I thought, _I suppose my vocabulary isn't as "modern" as my hair_, which caused Demetri to scowl at our inside joke.

The pace that Demetri set was hurried and even, and it caused me to wonder why he didn't simply dash ahead as usual. "I know my way," I said encouragingly, lagging slightly behind.

Frowning at my comment, he slowed his steps ever-so-slightly. "You're injured – you may have forgotten."

A familiar frustration crept into my voice as I said, "I'm not so delicate." _You threw me into the ocean from an eight story height, for goodness' sake,_ I added in my mind.

As though he too could hear my thoughts, he sneered at me. "I've seen otherwise," he reminded me.

I opened my mouth to retort immediately, but then hesitated when I recalled the condition in which he found me in Romania. _I was slowly dying._ "I am resilient, Demetri," I said irritably.

He simply remained silent in return – a typical reaction when he found himself to be wrong. I felt a small burst of victory at the thought. Though I respect Demetri in his own right, one should never assume that they know everything about someone or something. Such individuals rarely find true wisdom.

Then his retort came, only slightly delayed. "Such cannot be said of your hair."

My blood boiled; I'd completely forgotten about my embarrassment during my time spent with Edward. Withholding a blush as best I could, I glared at Demetri's profile scornfully. _He would do well to learn a lesson in etiquette from Edward._ I muttered something unintelligible, a half-formed insult, and let my eyes fall to the ground.

_Demetri will be Demetri._

After an elated greeting from Rosemary, the Volturi's secretary and my only human acquaintance, Demetri and I joined several others in the throne room. It appeared as though we were awaiting Aro's entrance. Isaac glanced only twice at my hair before greeting me heartily, which considerably lightened my spirits. The two of us had spent many evenings in the library during my stay, reviewing scripts and novels of times past. His presence was quickly becoming a sweet solace to me, such as any would describe of a close friend.

Felix was also present, but for a specific purpose. His unwavering iron grip was fastened on a particular vampire's wrists like shackles on a prisoner. My eyes narrowed when I identified the man, and I felt a long-familiar sense of insecurity rise up within me. His nearly black eyes locked on me when he sensed my gaze, and his dirt-smeared face contorted into a hateful scowl.

"Why is Darius here?" I demanded of no one in particular, clenching my fists painfully tight to keep from bolting as far as my legs would take me. I still felt a slight sting of betrayal when I recalled that the decision to spare Darius had been made while I was unconscious. If I'd had my way, the fiend would've quickly met the same fate as my father. _I would kill him myself._

Isaac chose to answer my question. "Master Aro wishes to interrogate him. He'll return to the dungeon shortly after we finish."

Tearing my eyes away from Darius, I rose a hand to my chest to steady my breathing, which had become rather ragged. I felt Isaac rest a hand on my shoulder, reassuring me. I turned my head and nodded graciously. "Thank you, Isaac."

I spotted Demetri out of the corner of my eye, who tarried near the golden doors of the throne room. Our eyes met for a moment too long, causing me to wonder what he was thinking behind his hidden expression. _What are you staring at?_ The question died on my lips when he suddenly turned and slipped through the doors, disappearing within a moment's notice.

"My children!" Aro's voice caught my attention from behind; it filled every square inch of the massive room with its pitch and cheer, from the domed ceiling to the gilded floorboards. His disposition had been particularly cheerful since the victory in Romania, with just cause. "Rejoice!" he exclaimed happily.

I didn't miss the jubilant smile on Isaac's face as he knelt down on one knee. Mirroring it, I dipped a lingering curtsey and watched Aro ascend the dais to his throne. Renata also emerged from the small door to the left moments later, which led to a room that I'd never seen, with a near-invisible smile on her shapely lips. She stood beside Aro's throne as usual, and frowned when she noticed the vampire struggling in Felix's restraint.

"There is much to discuss," Aro continued, motioning for Isaac and I to draw closer. "Let us start at the beginning, hm?"

"Yes, Master," Isaac said.

I nodded, standing on the top step of the dais as to keep a respectful distance.

Aro folded his boney hands in his lap with a note of commencement as he began. "In truth, I believe this story began here in Volterra several months ago. You recall, don't you, Isaac?"

"Yes," Isaac confirmed. "It was during the month of August."

"That's correct," Aro said approvingly, as if praising a small child. "One particular evening, I received a rather puzzling visit from you. To be more precise, from your _future_ self."

My mind scrambled to draw a conclusion from this statement while I continued to listen.

Aro watched me apathetically as he conversed with Isaac. "This version of you seemed very urgent to speak with me, though he rigorously denied me access to his mind. He was so adamant in delivering his message verbally that I nearly summoned a Guard to restrain him. Isaac, do you recall what he – _you_, rather – said?" he asked, shifting his eyes to the time traveler.

"No." Isaac paused a beat before speaking further. "You informed me later that we spoke about the future and planned a diversion to that future."

"Indeed," Aro intoned grimly. "The future that you described was beyond imagination; it's hardly worth recounting."

I frowned at that. _Why not?_

"But the arrangement we made has succeeded beautifully. _Quite_ beautifully." Aro then turned to me, an eager expression on his face. "You see, we _allowed _our dear Isaac to become captured by the villainous Romanians."

My mouth slipped agape as I rapidly glanced at Isaac; he seemed unaffected by the statement. "Why?" I managed to gasp, retuning my quizzical gaze to Aro.

He smiled drolly at my reaction. "A plan was set into place by none other than _my_ future self" – he gestured ostentatiously to himself – "in which I sent Isaac through time to speak with myself in the year 1941. At that time, he explained to me the need for Isaac's capture and use of a certain phrase..."

A bell chimed somewhere in my mind. "'The past will rewrite the future'," I said automatically.

Aro clapped his hands twice, overjoyed. "Yes, that's it! Now, tell me your perspective of things, dear one. Start at the beginning and spare _no_ detail," he instructed, watching me intently with a gleam in his eye.

Nervousness rippled through me for a moment before I began; it was strange to speak of such horrific experiences so soon. "I-It all started for me on the morning of December 8," I started weakly, trying to find my voice. I cleared my throat minutely before continuing. "I was met with... a strange set of circumstances upon arriving at the Cullen home in Dearborn, Michigan." I tried to ignore the flair of curiosity in Aro's gaze to avoid further embarrassment. "In short, Isaac's future self appeared to me for a short period of time, and attempted to warn me of a vague danger," I said, recalling my shameful disregard of the warning.

"Go on," Aro encouraged when I paused for half a moment.

I nodded, taking a needed breath. "He failed. Three weeks passed with no further contact, which I spent with the Cullens. On a particular evening, Edward went missing and three of us set out to look for him. Our search carried us to a forest outside of town, in which we encountered three Romanians – Darius, Stefan, and V-Vladimir." I drew another shaky breath as I pictured that dark night. "Isaac appeared once more and attempted to prevent my capture; it was at that time I learned the phrase he instructed me to repeat next we met."

Aro rose a hand to interrupt me. "This Isaac – did he simply disappear, traveling back to his future?"

The imagery of Isaac's death in the forest flashed before my eyes. _Swords carried by invisible hands – slash, slash, slash._I swallowed the dryness in my mouth and steadied my trembling hands by clenching them. At that moment, I would have much preferred that Aro simply extract the gruesome tale from my mind. "No," I replied, my voice thick and low. "No, he was... murdered. By Vladimir." I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I said this, and a small gasp forced its way up my throat. _Slash, slash, slash._

Then Isaac's hands were there, gathering mine up in a swift grasp. A tear threatened to pour from my eye before I rapidly blinked it away and looked up at Isaac. "It's alright," he said, "I'm here."

I nodded stupidly as my vision cleared of moisture. _Of course he's here! _Giving his hands a diminutive squeeze, I regained an iota of composure and returned my attention to Aro. He wore an extremely rare look of concern on his face, one that I was likely never to see again. Frowning suddenly, he beckoned me forward with an outreached hand.

Thankful for the gesture, I sluggishly walked forward and collapsed to my knees before him, offering him my hand and my mind. The sensation of his ability was more relieving than it ever had been, and I tried my best to communicate gratefulness. As my mind was picked apart thought by thought like a sweater unwound a thread at a time, I unconsciously gripped his chilly fingers when certain memories frightened me. He seemed to understand my impulse, or not mind at all. Several more moments passed with silence prevailing in the throne room.

Aro's hand slipped from mine eventually. "Hm...," he mused, gazing down at me for a second before turning his eyes to Isaac. "Such a loyal Guard," he commented, a slight furrow on his brow.

"I exist to serve you, Master," Isaac's tenor voice said from behind.

My eyes fell to my lap where my hands laid, fingers splayed against the black velvet there. I felt like weeping, or sleeping, or perhaps running deep into the forest where no one could find me. _Anything but being here to discuss these things._ A heavy weight fell on my chest when I realized that Isaac hadn't even spoken very much, and Darius had yet to be questioned. _Darius... he must think me very weak now._

"You may sit, Cornelia," came Aro's gentle voice.

When I glanced up from my place on the floor, he motioned to the large, stone chair to his right – Marcus' throne. I felt Renata tense up slightly when I sat with an appreciative nod and a great amount of chagrin.

"Now, Isaac," Aro continued nonchalantly, as if he dealt with emotional breakdowns every other day, "I'm certain that we're all curious about your trip to the past. Describe it in detail, if you would."

Watching Isaac from the viewpoint of the throne was rather bizarre, but Felix seemed very amused by it when I glanced his way. It seemed as though the blood-starved Darius had tired of his struggling, and now stood limply with his empty gaze set on the floor.

When Isaac began, there was barely a pause or hesitation in his tale.

"As instructed, I traveled to the American colony of Massachusetts in the year 1778 – October 28 to be specific. It required nearly a week to locate the woman whom I suspected to be Cornelia's mother. She entered the town of Boston by coach, alone, and took a room at a local inn for the better part of a week. I observed that she was a quiet girl, and gravely ill."

I listened with rapt attention, leaning forward in my seat eagerly. _He saw my mother with his very own eyes._

"Days passed in which nothing occurred, and I began to worry that she was not the young woman I sought. I ventured through the town at night in search of clues – that is when I encountered Vladimir.

"I hadn't expected his presence there; it took me by surprise when we passed each other on the street. He wore commoner's clothes and apparently posed as a human. I suspect that he thought very little of me since he gave no pause when our paths crossed. I began to track his meticulous movements through the city with as much discretion as possible. He was searching for something.

"He found it within a day's time, in the form of the sickly woman at the inn. I'm uncertain as to why he chose that particular female; perhaps she offered the least resistance due to her illness and lack of familial ties."

Swallowing dryly, I felt a wave of nausea wash through me. _Thank goodness I'm seated._

"Vladimir convinced her to follow him to a secluded cabin west of town; it appeared as though he'd secured the area for this purpose. The two engaged in consensual intercourse and Cornelia was conceived. The pregnancy lasted for a full month's time, during which Vladimir was largely absent and occasionally provided the woman with food and other essentials. Her maternity took a great toll on her body – she was frequently unconscious."

My stomach knotted. _Consensual? _I took a moment to absorb that thought; I'd always assumed that he'd taken advantage of my mother.

"At that point, being quite certain of the facts, I decided to return to the present time with my report. I arrived in –"

"Isaac?" I interrupted timidly. I felt instant regret when every pair of eyes in the room turned my way. Wetting my lips, "Isaac... did you ever learn her name? M-My mother's name...," I clarified breathlessly.

He seemed relieved by the innocent question and nodded. "Yes. Her name was Elsie," he said, "Elsie Banneker."

The knowledge sunk deep into my heart, filling a hole there that I never knew existed. "Thank you," I whispered. _Elsie Banneker. Elsie Banneker. Elsie Banneker... Cornelia Banneker._ I felt a small smile tug at my lips.

Isaac nodded sharply in acknowledgment and returned his attention to Aro. "As I was saying, Master, I arrived in the Romanian prison and informed Cornelia of my findings. They had the desired affect."

Aro remained stoic as Isaac fell quiet; his eyes held a deep, pensive emptiness. After several heartbeats of silence, the ancient vampire sighed. "What interesting events have occurred," he said musingly.

Isaac frowned for a moment before saying, "Master, there is a piece to this puzzle that I do not understand." He paused until Aro acknowledged him with a nod. "What have we accomplished? Or rather... what _will_ we hope to accomplish in doing all this?" he asked, referring to the future versions of ourselves.

Perking up in his seat immediately, Aro exclaimed, "Ha!" and began to explain. "Had you failed in retrieving that information, Isaac, our dear Cornelia would have doubtlessly been swayed to the Romanian's cause. You _yourself_ will eventually tell me how she has become our greatest adversary yet..." He pondered a moment. "Or rather, you will _not_, since we hope to avert that troubling future."

Isaac seemed content by this answer, but I was far from satisfied. _Swayed to the Romanian's cause? The Volturi's greatest adversary? Impossible. _With little forethought, "Sir, I find that future to be very unlikely, even in the event that I didn't know Vladimir was my father," I said swiftly.

Aro whirled on me when I said this, and his hawkish gaze caused me to fidget. "Do not doubt the conniving nature of the Romanians, Cornelia. By blood, _you_ have the potential for such a nature as well. Imagine that your captivity there was extended by several years – decades, even – without Isaac's presence to guide you. A ripe environment for conversion, indeed."

He nodded with finality after he said this, which discouraged me from disputing the facts. _I would have been very lost without Isaac there, I suppose. _"I understand," I relented weakly, letting my gaze fall from his. Though I would never speak of it, I was certain that "that troubling future" would never have existed in the first place. My life experiences prevented me from hating humans as Vladimir did; I would never be like him, no matter how long I suffered by anyone's hand.

Aro then sharply rose from his throne. I stood as well, and took my place beside Isaac while Aro descended the steps of the dais. His tone was sagely and worn as he spoke. "Children, the lesson of this story is one we've learned a thousand times over, in a thousand different times – to _never_ trust a Romanian."

Isaac and I murmured our agreement as Felix gave a gruff affirmative, and even Renata bowed her head in accord.

"Which brings us to a certain puzzle piece that we've yet to place," he continued, his ancient eyes flitting to Darius.

Upon signal from Aro, Isaac stepped forward and helped Felix restrain Darius' resistance. He took hold of the devil's hair and arched his head back in what appeared to be a very uncomfortable position. Aro approached as one would approach a mysterious gift left on Christmas morning – with tentative and excited steps. When he rested his ghostly fingers on Darius' cheek, the latter snarled in contempt and tried to squirm away unsuccessfully. Both Felix and Isaac redoubled their effort to keep their charge immobile.

Aro removed his hand just moments later and reached behind the lapel of his coat to retrieve a cream-colored kerchief. "Scum," he spat, turning his back to Darius when he growled reproachfully.

I stepped forward inquisitively.

"His mind is filled with nonsense," Aro said disdainfully, speaking to no one in particular as he stuffed his kerchief back into its hidden pocket. "He is quite young and knows little of Vladimir or Stefan, though it's apparent that they didn't know of Cornelia's existence until a short time ago. Perhaps five years. From his perspective, Vladimir was passionate about finding her; Stefan regarded his obsession as foolish but did little to discourage him. That is all. Take him away."

"Yes, Master," Felix said, yanking Darius to his feet as Isaac retreated.

The doors opened for Felix as he practically dragged Darius away, and Demetri quickly entered to assist him. A disheartening thought struck me. _Has Demetri been listening from the entrance_ _hall?_ I was tolerant of Isaac, Felix, and even Renata seeing me in a vulnerable position, but Demetri was an entirely different story. _He'll definitely have an extra weapon in his arsenal next we speak._

When silence fell once more, Aro sighed contentedly. "I'd hoped to save the formal ceremony for a later date, but I now see that an impromptu address is in order."

My curiosity piqued at the strange declaration, amplified tenfold by the small grin that spread on Isaac's face as his eyes darted to me. I rose my eyebrows.

Aro addressed Renata as he returned to his throne. "Dear, please fetch my brothers; Suplicia as well."

My foot hovered above the first step of the dais as I wrestled with growing confusion. "Sir, what is it?" I asked expectantly.

Reclining in his seat, he rested his eyes on me as his lips twisted into a sly smile. "A small ceremony," he explained drolly, dropping his hand to finger the white-gold chain around his neck, "for the christening of a new Guard."

* * *

><p><strong>This is EXACTLY how Part 4 ended in my original draft, and I kept it that way as a sort of tribute. *sentimental mode activated*<strong>

**I know some of you were surprised that I broke canon in killing Vladimir, but honestly... I just couldn't see it any other way. I tried to fit him in somewhere – _anywhere_ – but I knew that Cornelia would never find peace unless he was reduced to ashes before her eyes. It's horribly non-canon, I know, but I hope you can forgive me. (Vlad didn't have that large of a role in BD anyway, wahahaha.)**

**Next time: "Closing a Chapter"**

**-Scarlet**


	63. Chapter 59: Wrapped in Dreams

**Thank you for the reviews, ****Insanity is my second name**** and ****bonniebeast****! And thanks for the favs/follows, LouAnnPetersen, kAsS3695, and ChelseaLouisePowell. You gals are the best.**

**This is the last chapter of Part 4; I hope it meets your expectations.**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 59: Wrapped in Dreams<strong>

_January 14, 1942, 3:35 a.m._

_Volterra, Italy_

I traced the elegant curves of the "V" on my breast for the hundredth time in that hour alone. Through the early morning darkness, the cool air caressed my flushed cheeks and rustled the dormant flowers in the garden. Inhaling their pleasant, wintery scent, I let my eyes slip shut in the peace of that moment. When my sole companion chose to speak, I turned to regard him on the stone bench which we occupied.

"Santiago's craftsmanship is truly a marvel," Carlisle spoke softly, preserving the quietness in the air.

I nodded in agreement, watching his eyes trace the slender, white-gold chain around my neck. Recalling that Santiago had once spoke highly of Carlisle, "You knew him long ago," I commented, gaining his full attention.

His steady, amber gaze wavered for a slight moment of reminiscence. "That's correct. He's since reminded me of how my departure from the Volturi grieved him." He smiled tightly.

"The two of you were close?" I asked, intrigued.

"Quite. He was one of the very few who supported my unique deviation from their diet."

"He is rather open-minded, isn't he?" I noted. "I don't recall him ever batting an eyelash when _I_ first arrived in Volterra."

Carlisle nodded. "That he is."

Our gazes departed one another as silence descended once more. The breeze picked up; it stirred my cloak about my ankles and caused my hair to tickle my chin. Sighing contentedly, I turned my eyes upwards and watched the thin, gray clouds traipse across the star-splattered sky.

About an hour had passed since Isought Carlisle in the castle gardens; his several hours of absence had caused me concern. He'd informed me that Felix had requested that he remain outside when he returned from hunting; apparently, only Volturi were welcome at my impromptu initiation ceremony. I had frowned at the news and assured him that nothing incredibly outstanding had occurred – only a castle-wide summons of all the Guards and a short pledge by myself.

I smiled grimly when I recalled how nervously excited my voice had been when reciting my pledge of service. _Eternal service_. I swear that half the Guard took it for a comedy act rather than a solemn ceremony. Shifting my legs slightly, I flinched when my bandaged knee tapped against the edge of the bench.

Carlisle's eyes were on me in less than a second. "Cornelia?"

"It's nothing," I said quickly, glancing up with a controlled smile to ease his worry. "I'm fine."

He merely hummed in response, and hesitated a moment before saying, "I've been thinking..."

I tapped my chin in mock thoughtfulness. "That's an excellent sign," I quipped, prompting a quiet chuckle from Carlisle.

His tone then grew very serious. "Aro trusts you explicitly, Cornelia."

The gravity in his voice caused me to focus closely on his face, searching for any sign of implication or reference. There was none to be found. "Yes," I said shortly, unsure of his exact meaning.

His lips formed a line before he elaborated. "You must understand that he views you differently than most others. Allowing you to leave Volterra on a whim, rallying the Guard to come to your rescue... these are privileges that few others receive. You are special to him. Do you understand?"

I pursed my lips peevishly, feeling rather patronized. "I am a Guardsman now – things will be different," I hedged.

Eyebrows rising in challenge, he fixed a questioning gaze on me. "Will they?"

Trapped by my own words, I recalled how tightly Aro had grasped my shoulders after my pledge, and the slight narrowing of Suplicia's eyes when she took my hand in welcome. _Am I "special"?_ "I... I don't –"

"Cornelia," Carlisle interrupted, his eyes softening, "I don't mean to upset you in saying this; I merely wish to warn you."

My brow furrowed. "'Warn' me? Of what?"

A soft sigh fell from his lips as his eyes darted to the side, sensing a presence. "To not overstep your bounds," he murmured softly, inclining his head slightly to the left.

My gaze followed the direction to find a dark silhouette emerging from the forest nearby; it moved swiftly against the clouded sky. Narrowing my eyes slightly, I recognized the form. "Demetri," I whispered, returning my sight to Carlisle. He stared at me expectantly. "I think I understand, Carlisle," I said briskly, trying to satisfy him. "I'll ponder it."

Another silence fell, not as comfortable as the last. I worried that Demetri had eavesdropped on our conversation – a troubling thought indeed – and that Carlisle's warning had been interrupted too soon. Since he and Edward planned to return to America the following evening, I may not have another opportunity to speak privately with him. _Perhaps we may write one another..._

When Demetri began to near us, he abruptly turned and focused very intently on the still water of the lake. Wind moved over the surface of the water with hushed whispers, causing it to tremble beneath the dark morning sky. _He's giving us a semblance of privacy, I suppose._Several moments of stillness passed.

"He's a fine man," Carlisle declared, stealing my gaze from Demetri.

A loud laugh escaped me before I could muffle it behind my hands. I glanced back at Demetri, confirming his identity once more, and turned to gape at Carlisle. _To even think he would approve of such –! _"Well, I, uh... I-I suppose he is," I babbled, repressing my true thoughts.

A very subtle smirk ghosted Carlisle's lips as I said this, and he shifted into a standing position. I stood as well, sensing that his leaving was close at hand. "Will you sleep today, Cornelia?" he asked, resuming his doctoral role.

Running a quick self-assessment, I shook my head. "I wish to spend my time with Edward before the two of you depart," I said.

He nodded curtly, as though he expected such a reply, and bowed slightly at the waist. "I'll take my leave, then."

I leaned forward as he turned to leave, feeling quite unsatisfied with our exchange. My quick steps forward recaptured his attention, and he glanced back at me with a patient eye.

"Thank you." The statement burst out of me like an unsuppressed reflex. "Carlisle, you... you've helped me inexpressibly lately and I feel that..." I sighed at my sudden loss of words. "I feel that I owe you a great deal," I finished quietly.

He smiled naturally at my statement, and his tone became light. "If I kept all my patients in such debts, I would be a very rich man."

In retrospect, the joke hurt me much more than it should have at the time. _Am I simply just another patient in his eyes? _I felt a deep pang in my chest which lingered heavily in my next words. "I'll try to remember that, Doctor Cullen," I said rigidly.

The mirth in his bright eyes dimmed slightly and he stepped forward, circling an arm about my shoulders. He drew me to his chest in a sweeping motion, which caused me to stumble forward slightly into his embrace. I braced myself on one of his broad shoulders as I felt his lips press against the top of my head.

His cool breath stirred my hair when he spoke. "You're welcome, Cornelia."

Then he was gone, leaving me quite unsteady in the uneven grass. I caught my breath as I watched him enter the dark castle through a grand set of doors. Letting my hands fall aimlessly to my sides, I released a taunt breath and withheld the words that had teased my lips while he held me in his arms. _Don't leave, never leave; I still love you; I will always love you. _Only the darkness witnessed my sudden, unpreventable frown.

_What am I doing?_

Straightening my back, I shook myself of such thoughts. My self-respect always allowed me to recover quickly from these moments.

Demetri's presence weighed on my senses as I debated whether to return to the castle or not. In the spirit of thankfulness, I marched forward to join him by the lake. I hadn't had the opportunity to properly thank him since returning to Italy, and goodness knows I owed him much more than my life.

The tracker didn't acknowledge my approach in any visible way, which ignited a spark of nerves within me. Our relationship had already reverted to its original state during my stay – shallow, hostile, and competitive. I hoped to break that trend as soon as possible, though I was certain that I would be alone in the endeavor.

"Demetri," I greeted, receiving no response. His profile was expressionless as he watched the rippling water. "Demetri, I wish to express my gratitude."

I took a deep, shuddering breath when I once again received no reply.

"Demetri, when I was imprisoned in Romania, I thought of you often. I considered your ability to be my only hope of escape, and my every action was based upon that... that hope." I frowned when I recalled my manipulation of Donovan, the innocent child that I'd once hoped to save. _Perhaps not so innocent._

Demetri's first response was to blink, and then he turned somewhat to face me. "What do you wish me to say," he said flatly.

I shifted awkwardly. "I suppose there's no need to say anything, really."

Seemingly satisfied, he returned his gaze to the lake without another word.

Irritation filled me. _Does he intend to simply ignore me? _"Demetri..."

Silence.

"Demetri –"

"Is my name truly that fascinating?" He arced a thin brow in my direction, which caused me to deadpan at his immaturity.

"What I wish to say...," I trailed off, purposely subtracting his name from the phrase, "is that I intend to remain in Volterra for quite some time."

He spoke as if the statement was obvious. "What of it?"

I paused tolerantly, phrasing my next words carefully. "Since it's inevitable that our paths will cross often, I hope to improve our relations."

After a slight moment of thought, Demetri simply nodded. "Very well."

I frowned, unconvinced.

He finally fixed me with a steady gaze, hidden by the same expression that I'd seen him wear the previous evening. "If you are willing to put forth the effort for a better comradeship, so am I."

Relief allowed me to breath again. "Thank you, Demetri. Perhaps once we understand one another better, everything else will fall into place." I smiled with trepidation and waited for his reaction.

At first, I expected him to say something along the lines of "You'll never understand me, half-breed" or "I do not wish to understand filth like you." However, as a small smile danced in his eyes and his expression relaxed considerably, I doubted those predictions.

His tone was lighter than I'd ever heard before. "Yes, I hope so."

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

"Cornelia, that is not middle _C_."

"What? Oh. No, it isn't."

I shifted my left hand down a step on the piano into the correct position, and nodded once more for Edward to begin. We played through several measures of the duet he'd been working on, until I once more forgot which chord progression to play at the key change.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, aimlessly experimenting with different base chords.

"It's a _C_ harmonic third to an _A_ minor eighth," Edward said, placing his hand over mine to demonstrate the right structure. "And then a seventh."

"Oh, yes." I smiled at the pleasant, melancholy sound beneath my fingertips. "I remember now."

Edward watched me doubtfully. "You're sure you wish to play _secondo_? The _primo_ is much easier," he said, playing a sample of the high-octave melody.

"Edward, I..." _I don't wish to learn another part._

Frowning, he deliberated for a moment. Then, "You play," he suggested, sliding off the black bench and standing nearby. "I used to listen to you play for hours, remember?"

I looked up at him and laughed quietly in recollection. _The cabin in Washington. _"It seems so long ago..."

He nodded, grinning, and rested his elbow against the closed lid of the upright piano. "Not too terribly long," he reminded me.

I laughed under my breath, staring at the keys. "What shall I play?" I asked him, placing my fingers on the keys in preparation.

"Whatever you wish," he replied absently.

I closed my eyes to think for a moment, for it had been quite some time since I'd last played any instrument. Recalling the notes of a song I'd once cherished, I began to play the wistful, weaving introduction to "Fantasy No. 2" by Mozart. I made several mistakes at first, forgetful of the exact key in which to play; however, I recovered my memory by the time the melody crept its way into my hands. The song filled me with nostalgic, melancholy reminiscence that hovered like a troublesome raincloud in my mind. That bittersweet feeling grew as the song progressed towards its finish, nearly overtaking my every thought in search of its origin. Then, when the memory revealed itself fully, my fingers stilled against the keys almost immediately.

_Carlisle taught me this song._

Polite as always, Edward quickly interrupted my awkward pause. "Have you forgotten the notes?" He urged me along the bench and took a seat once more, resuming the song where I'd left it.

I glared at my hands as Edward finished the song – they were clenched tightly in my lap as I struggled to tame my emotions. It was childish to have such a strong reaction to a song, a memory of so long ago. _That part of my life is gone forever, and no one can change it._I chided myself into composure. Releasing a small sigh, I forced myself back into the present with as much will as I could muster.

Edward's final scale and _staccato_ chords effectively captured my attention. I smiled courteously and softly clapped my hands. "_Eccellente_," I praised halfheartedly.

He stood and bowed dramatically, smiling brightly at me. "It's a wonderful song."

I nodded. "Yes, it is."

Silence sprang up in the music room, during which I bit my lip to resist the sudden urge to frown. I squinted when I felt moisture well up in my eyes. _What's wrong with me?_

Edward's brow creased. "Cornelia?"

I turned away when my resolve crumbled, squeezing my eyes shut as tears forced their way through my eyelids. Pressing my hands to my face, I felt my cheeks flush with shame as a broken sob tore through my throat. My shoulders slumped forward in defeat, and I then felt Edward's hands supporting my shaking frame.

Numbness spread through my body as Edward picked me up; I clung to his neck and pressed my damp face into his shirt. The ground moved beneath us. _Where are we going?_

"Your room," he replied.

"Thank you," I managed to choke out, overcome.

The cashmere sofa in my room seemed more icy than ever when Edward gently set me down. I curled into one of the royal blue throw pillows as I tried to quell yet another series of tremors that shook my spine. My breath came in shallow gasps as I closed my eyes, hoping to dispel my raging emotions. Despite my resistance, I trembled.

"May I light the fire?"

Edward's question nearly startled me; I cracked open an eye to find him already gathering logs from my neat stack by the hearth. "P-Please," I stuttered, sighing at myself.

Hugging the plump pillow to my chest, I pulled myself into a sitting position and watched Edward strike a match for the fire. The blaze caught on the crumpled paper that I'd saved from Rosemary's wastebasket, and then licked at the fresh, pine logs with undeniable passion. I watched the commonplace reaction distractedly as Edward took a seat by my side. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, watching my profile until I chose to return his gaze.

"Cornelia, I want –"

I pressed a single finger to my lips to silence him, and then rested my chin atop my pillow, sighing. "I know what you want, Edward. But..." I watched the dancing fire reflect in his eyes for a moment as I chose my words. "But I cannot simply wrap my troubles in dreams."

A small smile appeared on his face at the lyrical reference before it quickly vanished. "Cornelia, making peace with your regrets isn't meant to be difficult."

Frowning at his choice of words, I shook my head. "I regret very little – you know that. I'm only embittered by what fate has chosen for me." My hands fisted the fabric of the pillow painfully tight.

"How so?" Edward's surprised tone caught me off-guard, causing me to look up at him. He rose his eyebrows when my thoughts challenged his unspoken statement.

"'How so'?" I repeated, shocked by his insensitivity. I sat ramrod straight and let him have a piece of my mind as though he didn't have it already.

"Just take the last few weeks for example, Edward. I was transported halfway around the world in less than a minute by my potentially insane father, and held captive in the most horrifying place imaginable. I was challenged to the very first sword duel of my life, which I lost, and forced to imbibe what I truly believed to be _human blood_. I was coerced, brainwashed, and manipulated by a coven whose goal was to decimate all human life and replace it with their own. I watched my father –"

I paused to blink irritably when tears clouded my vision, tainting my voice. "I... I watched him die; I watched my mother die..." My eyes fell to the floor as I recalled those early memories, clouded by my childish perception.

Then Edward's chilly hand covered mine; his thumb stroked the back of my hand in a soothing, circular motion. "Yes, I know." His voice was quiet, beseeching. "I know you experienced your very _first_ sword duel. I know you did _not_ truly drink human blood, and you did _not_ cave to their coercion. You _prevented_ the destruction of the human race and watched the execution of the Volturi's _greatest_ enemy. Humanity's greatest enemy."

He placed his other hand on my cheek and guided my eyes to his before letting it fall away. "I don't have an excuse for the 'insane father' part, but you see my point," he said in a light tone, smiling impishly.

I shook my head at his nonsense, fighting a smile of my own. "Those are hardly positives."

Shrugging, he released my hands and folded his own in his lap, watching me contentedly. "Maybe so. But they're still truths."

Feeling thoroughly subjugated to his point of view, I sighed. "You're truly too wise for your age, Edward."

He seemed pleased at that. "Just think of how I'll be at your age – a true prophet."

A laugh escaped me with ease as I leaned my head back against the couch, feeling suddenly tired. "I can only imagine...," I mused, watching Edward cock his head to the side as if listening to something. "What is it?" I pressed after a moment.

"Carlisle is searching for me," he said, rising from the couch.

A frown tugged at the corners of my mouth as I felt the evening's burdens descend upon my shoulders once more, simply at the name mentioned. "Oh."

Edward turned to me when he sensed my change of mood. He studied me for a moment, his eyes tracing every inch of my face, causing me to give him a quizzical look. Hesitation was evident as he said, "Perhaps troubles such as yours are not meant to be dreamed away."

A sad smile worked its way onto my face as I dwelt on this. It was his way of relenting to my side of the argument, agreeing that fate is truly cruel. I considered my negative approach to my memories – filling them with bitterness and sorrow; and I considered his – viewing them in a positive light and seeing overcome trials as victories. I reclined wearily against the couch at these thoughts.

"I suppose you're right," I sighed, letting my eyes close once more. "But I can try."

*~ **END PART 4 **~*

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><p><strong>Phew! That was the longest Part I've ever written for this story, and probably the most intense. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. If not, here's your money back. *hands you a cookie*<strong>

**A rather large time warp will bring us to Part 5: Family. (SPOILER: do you remember the Cullens' first year in Forks?) Like always, I have most of it written already from years ago, so it's just a matter of rewriting and editing on my part.**

**Next time: "New Millennium"**

**-Scarlet**


	64. Part 5: Family – Table of Contents

**Note: Chapter titles are likely to change as I get to them, so bear with me!**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p>*~ <strong><span>Cornelia: A Tale of Twilight<span>** ~*

Part 5: Family  
><span>

_Table of Contents_

Chapter 60: New Millennium

Chapter 61: Blast from the Past

Chapter 62: New Generations

Chapter 63: Batter Up – Part One

Chapter 64: Batter Up – Part Two

Chapter 65: Driver's Ed

Chapter 66: Hallow's Eve

Chapter 67: A Birthday to Remember

Chapter 68: Vacation in Volterra

Chapter 69: The Painting

Chapter 70: A Game of Poker

Chapter 71: Saint Marcus Day

Chapter 72: The Mission – Part One

Chapter 73: The Mission – Part Two

Chapter 74 – The Mission – Part Three

Chapter 75: Child's Play

*~**C**~*


	65. Chapter 60: New Millennium

**Thank you for reviewing, ****Insanity is my second name****, ****bonniebeast****, ****XxTwistedIvyxX****, and ****taramegareader****! And for faving/following, ****RenessmeKatnissCullen****, ****rockmysock88****, ****taramegareader****, and ****drachme****.**

**I got super freaked-out this morning when I saw that this chapter was dated April 13, 2003. I originally wrote this about two years ago, and picked the date in the story at random! It's a bizarre coincidence that I'm uploading this on April 13, 2013. O_o**

**Anyway, I hope you like this new chapter.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p>*~ <span>Part 5: Family<span> ~***  
><strong>

**Chapter 60: New Millennium**

_April 13, 2003, 9:23 a.m._

_Joplin, Missouri _

"Cornelia Cullen, you are receiving a call at customer service. Cornelia Cullen, please come to customer service."

My hand froze on the box of cereal I had intended take from its shelf, and my head tilted to the side. The woman's voice over the public announcement system had not only called me by name, but had also used the _wrong_ name. Thoughts scattering, I removed my hand from the forgotten food product and speedily made my way to the front of the supermarket.

Certain events led me to depart Volterra in 1961 with a heavy heart and an open invitation to return at any time. Though the events left me feeling quite unsatisfied, I was certain of my decision to return to America. The plane flight across the Atlantic, which was my first trip aboard such a vehicle, will always be a terrifying memory for me.

My homeland greeted me with over-aggressive businesses, confused individuals known as "hippies," and a flood of civil rights protests. Deciding to venture out and live alone once more, I settled into a rural Pennsylvanian town and hoped for the best. After becoming accustomed to music groups such as "The Beach Boys" and television shows such as _Star Trek_, I gradually became comfortable in my new environment.

Just a few years later, I began to be contacted by the Cullen coven frequently. Christmas and Independence Day became "family" holidays for which I would travel any distance to spend with them. In addition, Edward became concerned if I didn't send a letter through the post at least once a month. Rosalie wrote occasionally, mostly when an event occurred which she wished to share with me, and I found our friendship becoming greater with each passing year. I forced myself to simply accept that tensions with Carlisle and Esme – as well as Jasper and Alice for that matter – were permanently high. However, I endured them at least for Emmett's sake, whose disappointment over my missing a holiday was heartrending.

After buying Michael Jackson's first solo music album, I traveled to Sioux City, Iowa and secured a home there. I quickly discovered that a clan of wolves occupied the sizable Native American reservation outside the city, but I rigorously avoided them. By that point in time, I understood that my presence among the wolf tribes of North America was merely a nuisance.

I found it a great gift that I encountered an increasingly small number of vampires throughout my travels. My superhuman strength and senses continued to diminish over the years, as did my thirst for blood. Nonetheless, I continued to live as I would under normal circumstances – honing my combat skills through self-training and hunting even on the darkest of nights. Though my mortal half became progressively more dominant, I refused to abandon the vampiric genes that had helped me survive for so many years.

In short, humans will always confound me. As the decades marched forth toward the twenty-first century, the world became gradually more complex and dangerous. Living "under the radar" as I had for so many years slowly became an impossibility. Little could be done in the modern world without the requirement of a birth certificate, a social security number, and an annual tax record. As the United States boasted more and more of freedom, I found myself becoming less and less free. It was a regretful truth, yet very much a reality.

Leading up to the new millennium, the advancement of computer technology became the driving force of education and economy. It was quite an anomaly in the course of human history, and therefore rather defining of the times. Though I'd viewed "personal computers" as unimaginable and expensive pieces of technology throughout the 70's and 80's, they were common in most every household by the turn of the century. Computers were even used on the battlefield, in terrifying ways, and were even more necessary upon President George Bush's declaration of the "War on Terror" in 2001.

I was once again forced to adapt to a rapidly changing society – a challenge with which I've become intimately acquainted.

That morning was a particularly rainy day in the year 2003, the thirteenth day in April. It was my first year holding residence in the state of Missouri; I rented a small home in Joplin for $90 per month. The town was relatively secluded in the legendary Ozark forest, which provided a fair amount of discretion for my peculiar lifestyle. I found myself becoming rather fond of outdoor life once again due to my boundless access to nature.

My damp, rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the polished floors of the supermarket as I approached the service desk. The plastic handle of my basket dug into my left palm even though I tried to offset the weight with my hip. That being, I set it awkwardly on the high counter of "Customer Service," and peered around the object to address the human attending the desk.

"Um, hello. I'm Cornelia."

The middle-aged female rose a speculative brow as I introduced myself. Her Winn Dixie employee name-tag read "Judy B" though she didn't bother to present herself. Instead, she picked up the cordless telephone to her right, pulled up the antenna, and handed it to me wordlessly.

I felt unsettled by the odd situation as I pressed the receiver to my ear.

"_Hey, the music stopped,_" a gargled voice said through the line.

A quiet shuffle against the opposite speaker caused me to pull the phone abruptly away in surprise. Judy eyed my actions strangely, so I decided to initiate contact with whomever had decided to telephone me at the supermarket.

"Hello?" I asked in my clearest voice.

The voice responded immediately. "_Cornelia?_"

I hesitated for a slight moment. "Speaking," I said cautiously.

"_CC!_" the voice burst loudly. "_How are you?_"

Recognition struck me suddenly, taking me quite off guard. "Emmett? I... I'm quite well. And you?"

His laughter over the line made me smile. "_Great. We haven't heard anything from you in a while. Is everything okay?_" he asked, slightly obscured by static.

"Yes, of course." Glancing up at Judy, I was thankful to find her distracted by something on the computer monitor to her left. "Emmett," I said lowly, "how did you know I was here?"

A slight pause caused me to be anxious. Then, "_Well, Alice had a vision. You know – the bad kind._"

I inhaled sharply with sudden nerves. The rare occasions on which I was informed of Alice's visions was through letter from Edward or Rosalie; however, they never involved myself directly. They were usually predictions of major weather events nearby, changes in stocks that I owned, or a variety of happenings that involved the Cullens in some way. Fortunately, none were ever too detrimental.

I opened my mouth to reply when Emmett started speaking again.

"_She was actually the one who called you. She asked me to hold the line when they put her on hold._"

My stomach flip-flopped. "Oh, I see."

Emmett chuckled knowingly. "_Don't worry. She didn't look too worried, so it's probably not serious,_" he assured.

I clutched the tiny phone to my face, missing the familiar weight and coiled cord of regular telephones. "Th-That's good." I hoped not to sound as nervous as I felt. "On a side note, Emmett, you must recall that I officially changed my surname to 'Banneker' some years ago," I said in a playful tone, forcing a tight smile. _As if I had a surname from which to change it in the first place._

"_Well, duh,_" Emmett replied snidely. "_It's just funner to use your spy name._"

My eyebrows drew together momentarily before I realized he was joking. I laughed quietly into the receiver. "Emmett, I would rather discuss such things in the comfort of my own home if you don't mind," I said, hoping that he picked up on my subtle hint.

"_Right, uh..._" Another scuffle. "_Alice just walked in, anyway._"

I waited expectantly as I heard quiet murmurs on the other end. Yet another shifting sound led me to believe that someone had covered the speaker of the phone with their hand. Biting the inside of my lip, I listened with waning patience.

The voices then became louder. I clearly recognized Edward's, saying, "_Wait until she arrives to tell her._"

A high-pitched voice interrupted him, which I assumed belonged to Alice. "_There's no need for her presence here. You know that._"

Edward's reply was hardly distinguishable; I only heard a few phrases. "_– preferable to... in person... know I'm right –_"

Alice's voice was louder this time, much closer to the speaker than before. "_Edward, give me the phone._"

A short pause followed, during which I growled softly to myself. _This is ridiculous_, I thought.

"_GIVE ME THE PHONE, EDWARD!_"

I jumped several inches off the ground in surprise, and, in the process, nearly dropped the phone. Judy the clerk scowled at the display. Rubbing my throbbing ear in annoyance, I muttered an apology to Judy and pressed the phone to my healthy ear.

I felt a spark of anger. "Edward, I don't know what sort of –"

"_Cornelia._"

My next words were stolen from me. I gaped like a fish for a moment before finding my voice in the form of a whisper. "Alice."

Her next request surprised me. "_Could you possibly visit the family on short notice? I've a matter to discuss with you._"

I couldn't force coherent words from my brain, so I settled with saying, "I... Where?"

"_Forks, Washington_," was her reply.

The name of the city was unfamiliar to me, but it was easily researched. "Very well. I'll –"

_Click._

The call ended.

"Are you, ahem, finished?" Judy asked in a droning tone, reaching for the phone before even receiving a reply.

I nodded mutely as I relented the perplexing device. "Once again, I apologize," I said sheepishly, motioning to the phone as she replaced it in the small holder.

She shrugged as though it was nothing, but the reproachful look on her face told otherwise. "Is there anything else I can do for you, ma'am?" she asked as if reciting a verse in school.

"Um, yes." I collected my thoughts briefly to form an ample request. "Might these items be returned? I don't need them anymore," I said, pushing my basket of groceries forward an inch or two.

Glaring at the basket as though it had murdered her firstborn, she let out a frazzled breath. "Yeah. Have a _great_ day."

Nodding stiffly in return, I whirled on a heel and nearly dashed for the exit. I felt disconcerted and excited at the same time, which led to a generous amount of frustration between the two. Perhaps a trip to Washington truly was in order; I hadn't journeyed solely for enjoyment in quite some time. Then again, judging by the puzzling phone call I'd just received, this particular trip was bound to be more troublesome than most.

At the store's exit, a young man glowered when I paused to allow him to open the door. I opened the heavy glass door myself, more disappointed by his lack of manners than necessary.

_Perhaps I will never understand humans simply because they will never understand me._

* * *

><p><strong>Cornelia's reasons for leaving the Volturi will come to light later in Part 5. I hope you'll stick around until then.<strong>

**Thoughts? Predictions? Suggestions? Dinner plans? Review and tell me! I love hearing from you.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**


	66. Chapter 61: Blast from the Past

**Thank you for reviewing, beachchick3, bonniebeast, and Insanity is my second name! It means a lot to me.**

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 61: Blast from the Past<strong>

_April 14, 2003, 10:54 a.m._

_Seattle, Washington_

"Excuse me. I'm sorry, might you be able to move your foot? Excuse – oh, beg pardon. Hello, sir. Yes, I would like to pay in cash. One-hundred eight five? I... yes, I do have that much on me."

I handed the hefty sum of money to the scruffy-faced bus driver, and he pulled a lever to his right to open the exit doors. Scrambling down the steps as fast as possible, I hiked my leather bag higher on my shoulder as I joined the pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk. The sizable bus pulled away from the curb with a banshee-like screech, leaving a cloud of dark exhaust in its wake. I felt my stomach churn at the repulsive stench of the cloud.

"Oh, excuse me," I faltered when I felt a stranger's shoulder bash into my own. The faceless person quickly became lost in the steady stream of pedestrians, and I quickly took the hint to join the flow as well.

The Seattle sky was clear and blue; the air was thin and smelt of rubber, metal, and concrete. Such vivid scents led me to believe that a storm had passed through not long ago. Due to the pleasant weather, I rushed beneath the shadow of a nearby office building and fished in my bag for the black, retractable umbrella that I'd purchased for daytime travel. After pulling it over my head to guard myself from the sun's rays, I took a deep breath through my nose and set out in search of a reasonably priced restaurant in the busy downtown area.

The city had changed greatly since my last visit in the early nineteen hundreds. I had heard of the great amount of tourism that the city drew per year, but the visual evidence was rather shocking. Workers hurried to their places of business amidst an unceasing flood of curious tourist, snapping pictures and shouting to their companions with both excitement and frustration. I was tossed about between the two groups, along with the normal traffic of the city dwellers, confused by foreign street names and unrecognizable landmarks.

In short, it was absolute delirium.

Abandoning my quest for food quickly enough, I stood on a relatively calm street corner and hailed a city cab. Four of the yellow-and-black vehicles zoomed past me without stopping, obviously occupied by existing customers. My fifth attempt proved fruitful, and I ducked into the back seat of the stuffy car with minimal difficulty.

"Where ya wanna go?" the cabby asked after I'd pulled the door shut.

"Is this a long-distance cab?" I asked, situating my leather bag comfortably in my lap.

"Yeah, but that's extra," the man replied, slamming his hand on the dashboard. Above the radio controls, a weathered plaque compared the in-city prices to the out-of-city prices per mile.

I winced at the sizable difference, but quickly composed myself when the human caught my eye in the rear-view mirror. "That's fine, sir. I would like to go to Forks," I said, calculating the cost in my mind. _Thank goodness I made that bank withdrawal yesterday._

"Forks?" the man repeated with a dumbfounded expression. "Ain't never been there before," he mumbled to himself, reaching for the passenger-side glove box. "Hang on while I check the map."

I nibbled on the inside of my lip as he unfolded a surprisingly large map of Washington, which stretched across the entire front seat. Cars, buses, and other taxis passed on the busy street as we sat illegally at an unpaid parking meter. Feeling strangely cramped, I slid towards the window and used the crank on the door to roll the glass down. A fresh yet chilly gust of air bathed my face, saving my mood from being soured. As I watched the busy street, the thought of a police car appearing drifted through my mind before the cabdriver interrupted with a gruff exclamation.

"Ah-ha, Forks!" After tracing over the Olympia region and across Whidbey Island on the map, his finger rested on a pink dot which appeared to be teetering on the westward tip of the Olympic Peninsula, as if waiting to jump headlong into the Pacific Ocean. "The one south 'er Port Angeles, right?" he confirmed, turning partially to regard me.

The second town struck a dull tone of recognition in my mind, as though I'd heard it mentioned once or twice before. "Yes, I believe so." _What other "Forks" could there be?_

"Alrighty, then." The cabby flicked on his left blinker and shifted the car into drive. "Forks it is."

The drive took much longer than I expected it would, including three "pit stops" and a chance to refuel the small vehicle at a gas station. I considered simply paying my fare and running the rest of the way, but the idea fell flat when a nasty front line appeared on the horizon. Most of my journey was spent giving halfhearted responses to the talkative cabdriver, who insisted on raising his voice above the noise of the drumming rain on the windows. Fortunately, according to the cabby, he had replaced the windshield wipers recently when his "brother's daughter's friend" had commented to his niece how "crappy" they were after she'd rented his taxi.

I hadn't realized that we'd entered a town when my driver cheerfully said, "Here we are!"

Shaking myself from boredom, I peered out the window at the scenery around us. Pine trees flanked both sides of the road, lining every point of the horizon in teeming hills and swooping valleys. The view surprised me. _I've forgotten the high elevation of this region. _Just off the road, nestled in a crest of trees, sat a small dinner with a relatively crowded parking lot. A green, rectangular sign beside the road read as follows:

**Forks**  
><strong>City Limit<br>Pop. 3,159**

"Lucky for you, it stopped rainin'," the cabby said gruffly, turning in his seat to collect his payment.

As he extended his hand, I glanced out the window once more, wondering why he'd stopped so short of the town. _I suppose this is as good a place as any._ I fumbled for my wallet as the cabby announced the sickeningly large tab, and paid the amount to exact change.

Dark clouds loomed lowly in the sky as I stepped out of the suffocating taxi and watched as its owner navigated back the way he'd come. Checking my wrist watch, I found that it was nearly time for supper. My stomach growled at the reminder, but I decided to forgo the dinner in favor of finding the Cullens. _Perhaps I can hunt near their home before the sun sets._Edward had written about their sizable piece of land some time ago, and described it as the perfect hunting grounds.

I recalled seeing a sign that announced our entrance into the "Olympic National Forest" as I gazed across the emerald landscape. The scene caused me to fall into tales of my past, filled with both joy and sorrow. _I wonder where Hoquiam is in relation to here._ Shaking my head lightly at my own nostalgia, I jogged past the dinner and entered the evergreen forest surrounding it.

My blade glided through the motionless fox's silky fur as its heart beat one final time. Bending my head, I pressed my lips against the fresh wound and let the fragrant, crimson blood flow into my mouth. The warmth comforted me and the taste fortified my energy. I rose to my feet once the creature's body grew cold, pressing a handkerchief to my stained lips and then doing the same with my dagger.

Two hours of aimless searching had passed, during which I'd investigated the town of Forks and the surrounding five-hundred square acres. The town consisted of several neighborhoods and business blocks, bordered by the seemingly endless green forest. I'd pick up several of the Cullens' scents at the local high school, grocery store, and hospital, but the trails didn't lead far. _Accursed cars._

My search always ended in the vast pine-and-oak forest, which was overflowing with wildlife of all shapes and sizes. The bears and wolves of Missouri could not compare to their Washington counterparts, which grew large and fat during their long hibernation period. Hunting there was incredibly appealing, though I tended to avoid such large animals in favor of easier prey.

After my "meal," I sat atop a mossy log to ponder the situation. I considered using a payphone in Forks to ring the Cullens, but soon realized that I didn't know their phone number. The last number of theirs that I remembered was sorely outdated. My mind wandered from plan to plan as I watched the moon slowly scale the cloud-scattered sky, washing the forest in silvery beams of light. Concluding to rent a room in Forks and await the Cullens' appearance, I gathered my belongings and slung my bag over my shoulder.

The North Star shone brilliantly between rolling clouds, pointing me in the direction of Forks. As I watched the star, ghostly silhouettes of tree limbs waved across the sky, stirred by the slight breeze. The chilly air brushed my cheeks and weaved through my clothes like an ethereal presence, causing me to shiver. I hadn't planned on staying out late into the night – if seven o'clock can be considered late – but I also hadn't expected to encounter such a roadblock. Alice usually knew if I was within a hundred miles of the family, and could locate me easily.

A subtle shift in the wind carried a strange scent to my nose, causing me to slow my steps. The scent held the slightest bit of familiarity that intrigued me greatly. Studying it for a moment, I let my mind stumble from memory to memory in an attempt to find a coordinating face. When this proved unsuccessful, I decided to follow the trail for a short while, if only to find a better sample of the unique smell. As I moved along, the scent grew progressively stronger and my memory gradually weaker.

_Werewolf._

The recognition snapped in my mind so quickly that my movements completely froze. How could I have forgotten about Titus Black and his pack near Hoquiam? I hadn't thought of them in such a long amount of time that those memories seemed hazy and so, so distant.

As I began to remember faces and conversations of times past, a high-pitched yell bounced through the trees. I tensed immediately and stooped low to the ground, waiting to defend myself if necessary.

"That's your excuse!" the voice screamed, distinctly female.

A hooting owl above me fell silent, and my heartbeat sounded louder than ever. When I discovered that I was in no immediate danger, my feet carried me in the direction of the voice with near-silent steps.

A male voice joined in moments later. "I swear to you, once I get over these... these changes –"

"Changes? Changes!" the female interrupted, obviously enraged. "You're sick almost every day, you disappear for weeks on end, and you're calling that stuff 'changes'?"

"Goddamn it, you've _got_ to understand. I... you can't leave me over this. You _can't_." The man's voice trembled with passion.

The woman was beyond exasperated. "Just... _tell me_ what's going on. Tell me the _truth_!" she exclaimed.

"Babe, if I knew what was going on, I _would_ tell you." The man sighed loudly. "I just... I'm just..."

A pause followed, during which I crouched between two pine trees, content with my distance of approximately one-hundred feet. I spied a faint light in the distance, but the humans' figures were indistinguishable due to distance and underbrush.

"You're scaring me," the girl's voice continued in a gentler tone. "You're really scaring the crap of me, Sam."

"Leah, wait –"

"No, Sam."

"Damn it, Leah –"

"Go to hell!"

I heard a scuffle – bare feet against grass – and then silence. The owl resumed its evening serenade as I shifted uneasily. It sounded like a lover's quarrel – an argument that I had no business overhearing. However, I felt drawn toward it due to my curiosity over the familiar scent. I advanced toward the orange light quietly.

The man swore loudly and I heard a peculiar sound akin to an axe splitting a log. When I came within visual range, I observed that the woman had disappeared – perhaps into the small, glowing house a stone's throw away – leaving the man alone with his profuse swearing. The apparent backyard of the house was awash in orange-colored light from the tinted flood lights mounted near the back door, which cast a strange, reddish glow across the man's dark skin. The thick trunk of an oak tree nearby had fallen victim to his fist.

Keeping a safe distance, I studied the scene through the thin, needled branches of a young pine tree. As the man began to pace the length of the yard, I leaned this way and that, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face. His scent was unusual, a mix of both human and wolf, and confused me with its strangeness._These could be descendants of men I once knew. _My curiosity was overpowering.

I began to doubt that my curiosity would be satisfied as the minutes slipped by uneventful. Some murmurs could be heard from inside the house, but the man in the yard simply continued to pace, curse under his breath, and occasionally kick at the ground. Just before I lost hope, the man's steps shifted in a new direction – towards me. Fortunately, his eyes were elsewhere.

His face was clearer than ever, though marred by a deep scowl, and I saw the resemblance well enough. _No doubt, he's a descendant of –_

"Is somebody there?" the man's deep voice asked.

I felt my heart jolt to a stop at the sudden demand, and every nerve within my body froze like ice. With bated breath, I watched the man's brown eyes scan the tree line in an unexpectedly scrutinizing way. However, his eyes carelessly passed over my hiding place, and I breathed again. _Thank goodness._

I suddenly realized that seeking the source of the scent had been a terrible idea; I had no way of knowing if the treaty between Carlisle and the Quileutes – and the clause which allowed my presence of their land – still stood. After all, it had been nearly two centuries since then. _Titus and Ephraim Black's generations are far gone._

The man at present spat yet another curse and he averted his eyes from the forest, seemingly unaware of my presence. "I'm going crazy," he muttered, staring at the ground. His clenched fists shook with anger at his sides, and his quiet tone took on a sharper edge. "Why is this happening?" he demanded of no one under his breath. The tremors in his body visibly shook his shoulders.

Suddenly, he darted into the forest with a surprising amount of speed, forcing me to flop to the ground in order to remain undetected as he passed me. Picking myself up a moment later, I turned on a heel and sprinted as fast as I could in the direction of Forks, away from Quileute land. Whatever information I wished to learn about the new generation of Quileutes could easily be obtained from the Cullens, since it was inevitable that they had come to some new agreement with the tribe. _Carlisle brought them here once before, didn't he?_

My wild sprint proved to be short-lived when I felt a hefty collision on my back, which hurled my body violently toward the ground. Unfortunately, my chin took the brunt of the impact and my teeth clamped on my tongue, drawing blood along with a sharp pain. I panicked when I felt an incredible amount of pressure gradually applied to my spine, which caused my remaining breath to wheeze out of my throat. A warm, moist breath appeared at my neck, accompanied by huge, sharp teeth that set against the base of my skull with predictable intentions...

"Oh, dear God," I managed to gasp in a panicked whisper. "Please, stop what you're doing!" Blood and dirt became an unwanted combination in my mouth as I pressed my face against the cold ground, wanting desperately to escape the literal jaws of death. I feared for my life in the tense moments of silence that followed.

With a veritable snort of disappointment, the beast removed itself from me. Breathing airily, I scrambled to my feet and snatched my fallen bag with trembling fingers, watching the giant wolf warily all the while. Its obsidian black fur blended with the shadows almost perfectly, giving its large yellow eyes a specter-like appearance. It stared back at me with surprising control. _He must be experienced._

Summoning the strength to speak clearly, I said, "Thank you. You won't regret sparing me." I felt admonished by the wolf's unfaltering stare, and a quiver slipped up my spine. "I'm leaving," I said weakly, backing away with my eyes glued to those yellow ones. The wolf's posture reminded me that of a cat stalking its prey, poised to pounce at a moment's notice.

Since the technique had worked with plenty of mountain lions and cougars in its day, I simply turned on a dime and dashed away with every iota of speed I could muster. Using my ability to escape a dismal fate was always a last resort for me, so I hoped beyond hope that the werewolf didn't give chase. If it did – if _he_ did, rather – the situation may have ended in disaster for both of us. Thus, I felt much relief when I didn't hear the sound of great paws pounding the ground behind me.

_Yes, that man was definitely a descendant of Levi Uley._

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

My relief nearly threw me into hysterics when I saw it – a silver, bullet-like sports car parked along the main road of Forks, just outside the largest local hotel. The ridiculously lavish vehicle was occupied by its proud owner, who happened to be a particularly smug mind reader. I recognized the device from the ten-or-so photographs Edward had sent me about one year prior. It grieved me to know that the price of the car was equivalent to three decades' worth of residential rent for me.

The passenger-side window scrolled down as I approached, accompanied by a motorized humming sound. I ducked my head to peer through the window, and was hardly surprised by whom I found behind the wheel.

"Glad you could make it," Edward said in his usual, cheery tenor. "Climb aboard," he welcomed, pressing a button on the control panel to his left. A curious clicking noise resounded through the car, causing the door locks to pop up into their unlocked positions.

Placing my hand on the cold, unwelcoming door handle, I pulled gently and let the hinges slide open with silky grace. The dark leather upholstery of the interior held the menacing appearance of a black hole, ready to suck me into uncharted space, helpless and cold.

My eyes flickered uncertainly over the sight. "Edward, I..."

"Cornelia," he sighed, leaning over the passenger seat to view me better. "It's not going to eat you," he said seriously.

I felt my reluctance grow by the second. "My clothes are dirty, my hair..." I pulled my fingers through the waist-length waves to demonstrate my point, letting a few pine needles fall to the pavement beneath me.

Edward wasn't dissuaded. "Don't worry – Alice saw Rose helping me clean it out tomorrow. Just get _in_," he urged, gesturing me forward almost impatiently.

Having run out of excuses, I let out a frustrated breath and descended into the black hole. The leather and metal around me was cold, like a coffin, and the door closed with a happy _clunk_, sealing me in the small, dark space. The engine revved with a sharp, intimidating roar that shook me from the tips of my fingers to the marrow of my bones, and the car began gliding along the road like glass against silk.

"Edward, I must be honest," I said grimly, pressing my shoulders rigidly into my seat. "This car is simply awful."

His soft chuckle warmed me slightly. "This coming from the woman who declared first-class flying to be intolerable," he quipped, crossing an empty intersection of roads without acknowledging the red light.

I smiled at his light demeanor, comforted by it. "It is what it is," I said emphatically, tugging my bag into my lap. I folded my hands atop the familiar leather and leaned back, feeling a bit more relaxed.

"And _this_ happens to be an Aston Martin V12 Vanquish." When I stared at him quizzically, he flashed a smile. "With all the available options."

_Am I supposed to be impressed?_ My thoughts betrayed me as an unbelieving laugh escaped my throat. "Remind me how you were able to pay for this?"

"That's hardly –" Edward stopped suddenly, as if I had interrupted him, and gave me a pointed, worried glance. "Cornelia, that smell..."

I waved my hands for him to stop. "It's nothing. I was behaving foolishly."

"Is that _werewolf_?" he asked incredulously, watching my face instead of the road.

I hesitated, unsure how to explain the situation, and rubbed the back of my neck where pin-point bruises had started to form. Taking a breath, I began, "I was hunting in the forest east of town –"

"And followed a trail that you knew could lead to danger," Edward interrupted, glowering.

"Edward, please, watch the road," I said, gesturing to the empty expanse of highway ahead. He turned obediently as I let out a heavy sigh. "I know it appears that way, but I've handled situations like this before. There's no need to worry," I assured.

My friend's expression grew hard. "This tribe is different from the rest, Cornelia. Only recently has a human transformed – just one. Alone, they are unpredictable," he said gravely.

It hadn't yet occurred to me that the wolf I encountered had behaved a bit strangely. Rather than detecting my hybrid scent and potential friendliness, he attacked me outright and acted with a territorial instinct. This had befallen me once before, in a frontier state I'd been passing through many years before, and, at the time, the wolf's pack leader had ordered him to stand down.

"The wolf you encountered has no leader – it's alone," Edward reinforced, following my train of thought.

"But why?" I asked, drawing my eyebrows together. "Did the rest die?"

"No," he replied, frowning. "When we arrived in Forks a few months ago, there were no wolves in the area."

I pondered this for a moment. "You've lived here once before, correct?"

"Yes, in 1936. A small pack of wolves guarded the reservation then. We made a peace treaty of sorts, agreeing to keep off their land."

"I see." I nodded as I absorbed this information. "I recall you writing about it if I'm not mistaken."

Edward chuckled as I sifted through clouded memories. "That was a long time ago."

A brief silence filled the car as we rocketed down the dark road with only the headlights to illuminate our path, and the questioned of our destination finally entered my mind. "Edward, I scoured the Forks area," I said with slight irritation. "Where do you all live?"

"About fifteen miles out of town like we usually do." He paused to glance at me. "The property is about thirty miles northwest of Hoquiam if that helps."

I nodded in recognition, picturing my time spent in the town so many years ago. It had been barely a town in those days; it was more apt to be called a frontier settlement. I had lived in Hoquiam for approximately one year until Carlisle and I decided to move about thirty miles northwest to build our home of three years...

My head snapped to the left. "Northwest, you say?" I said in a strangely high tone.

"Yes..." Edward watched me out of the corner of his eye. "What of it?" he prompted, fishing for thoughts no doubt.

I shook my head and sent my mind in another direction; I was too familiar with his tricks to be fooled so easily. Edward knew next to nothing about my relations with Carlisle, assuming that the latter had also held his peace, and I was quite comfortable with the arrangement. Though it was difficult – nearly impossible – to keep my personal thoughts from Edward's reach, I strove to do so with my memories of Carlisle at the very least. That particular chapter of my history was better left untouched by the Cullen "children," with everyone's best interests in mind.

Especially if Carlisle had reclaimed our prior home for the family's use. _We built that home with our bare hands and he –_

"Winn Dixie," I stated.

Edward glanced once, then twice in my direction. "Pardon?"

"Winn Dixie, the supermarket chain. I was there when Alice phoned," I said calmly.

Judging by the perplexed expression on Edward's face, I had successfully evaded memories which I wished not to share with him. A surprising if not pleasing victory.

After a moment, he nodded. "If that call was as frustrating for you as it was for me, I must apologize. Alice was... a bit shaken at the time." His tone was wary.

"Emmett said that she'd had a vision," I recalled. From my brief periods of exposure to the girl, I knew that Alice's usually warm and bubbly personality was often soiled by her foreboding ability to see the future. Her frequent visions were sometimes nightmares that would haunt her for days on end, during which Edward and Jasper were also victims of her troubled spirit. I'd been told that Alice's ability was as much of a curse as it was a gift.

"She did," Edward confirmed hesitantly. "I believe she wants to speak with you about it, but, at first, she was insistent that you didn't come to Forks."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "The vision wasn't clear – I don't think she understands it herself. I'm sure she can tell you more, or at least find peace with it now that you're here." As he said this, the car gradually decelerated and turned onto a barely noticeable side road, lined by trees. The gravel crunched beneath the rubber tires.

"I see." A smile crept onto my face as I gazed fondly at my companion. "A visit was long overdue, anyway," I said sentimentally.

Edward caught my eye and returned the smile twofold. "Everyone is excited to see you, whether they'll admit it aloud or not." He smirked lightly. "We don't get visitors often, you know."

Fresh anticipation filled me as the car broke through the dense forest and the silhouette of a house appeared against the dark sky. I felt a burst of joy as I imagined seeing my friends again. "Friendship is sweet," I said happily, forgetting my worries about the vision, the house, and Carlisle for a moment.

Edward laughed as we slowly rolled closer to the house, and said, "Family is sweeter."

* * *

><p><strong>Would Carlisle really use <strong>**_their_**** house like that? If so, how will Cornelia react? Your review will encourage me to write faster!**

**-Scarlet**


	67. Chapter 62: Reunion

**Thank you to everyone that has read/reviewed/followed this story in the past few months. School continues to keep me busy, so I won't be able to update regularly like before. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this new chapter (and forgive my careless typos)!  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 62: Reunion<strong>

_April 14, 2003, 9:20 p.m._

_Forks, Washington_

Upon exiting the car, my suspicions about the house were denied. The smell of fresh oak, plastic, and paint led me to believe that the house was built fairly recently. I looked to Edward as he locked the car doors with a remote on his key chain.

"This house...," I began, unsure how to broach the topic. Glancing across the three-story structure, I noticed an overabundance of windows and pure white siding. _It's much different from mine_, I determined. _Much newer._

"Esme commissioned it from a local housing company a few months before we moved here," Edward said, motioning for me to follow him down a stone path leading to the front porch. "Her theme this time was 'clean.'" He chuckled under his breath.

A slight breeze caused my steps to quicken and my skin to prickle with the cold. The warm, yellowish glow from the ground-floor windows was more than welcoming. "Sounds lovely," I replied, feigning interest in Esme's most recent design fad.

The subtle scent of jasmine lingered near the porch steps, forcing me to finally notice the extensive flower garden bordering the house. Here and there, weeds peeked from between carefully tended flowers and bushes.

"It's a good house," Edward admitted tolerantly, springing onto the porch heedless of the steps. "The property is my favorite part, though – the forest is quiet."

I smiled as he turned a key in the doorknob, unlocking the tumblers. "I can't wait to see it," I said earnestly.

The remaining locks on the door clicked suddenly and it snapped open, causing Edward to stumble forward to keep his grip on the keys. Alice's slender form appeared in front of me in less than a moment; I gasped in surprise, stepping back.

"Cornelia!" The small, amber-eyed creature greeted me with a brilliant smile, and snatched both of my hands to shake them vigorously. "It's so good to see you," she said, leaning forward to kiss my cheek.

I gripped her hands for stability as I recovered from mild shock, but quickly returned her greeting out of politeness. Her cheek was slightly warm, obviously from exposure to the raised temperature within the house. "Always a pleasure, Alice," I returned, smiling with good nature.

"Thank you for coming," she said hastily, drawing a quick breath. "I've been worried."

"Of course," I said immediately, sensing her nervous energy. It wasn't often that she greeted me so warmly; rarer still that she appreciated my presence so. "Is everything alright?" I asked gently as I watched her eyes dart restlessly between my own.

"_Alice_," a stern voice admonished from behind her, "I thought you promised not to _ambush_ her."

Glancing over the petite vampire's shoulder, I found the source of the voice with her arms crossed and her eyebrows raised. Alice detached herself from me and bounced a step back. "Right. Sorry," she murmured.

"Rosalie," I greeted happily, stepping forward to embrace my friend. Her arms readily returned my embrace, pressing me close to her chest and encompassing me in a long-familiar scent.

"It's been too long, Cornelia," she sighed into my ear. She squeezed me tighter momentarily before pulling away to study my face with a golden gaze, her lips turned upward slightly. "You still don't look a day over twenty-five."

I laughed into my hand as I stepped back to regard her. "That number grows with every decade, you know."

"Nonsense," she teased, reaching forward to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "You're well within your prime and you know it."

"What? No way." Emmett's deep baritone joined in as he appeared by Rosalie's side. "She's like an old lady now," he said, grinning lightheartedly as he outstretched a hand in greeting.

My hand became lost in his as he took hold of it and shook; my shoulder gave a pinch of warning at the overpowering handshake. I smiled deviously, returning the forceful grip as much as I was able. "Would you like to test that theory, Emmett?" I said with mock challenge.

"Anytime," he said cheekily, playfully narrowing his eyes.

I sensed Jasper's presence moments before he said, "Sounds like a fight I'd pay to see."

His tawny eyes danced as he smiled at me, and I couldn't help but smile in return. "Jasper," I said, stepping closer to clasp his strong hand. Our handshake was curt and direct – much like our current relationship. "It's good to see you."

"Likewise, Cora," he said cordially, looking away when Alice nestled into his side. I smiled when he wrapped his arm around her petite shoulders.

"Well, then," Edward said above Emmett's half-formed sentence. "Now that we're _all_ on the porch, let's get Cornelia inside."

Rosalie instantly took my arm and led me towards the door as the rest crowded in behind us. She glanced over my leather pack with slight disapproval. "This is all you brought, I assume."

Emmett laughed boisterously as he teased Edward's irritable mood, stealing my attention from Rosalie for a moment. "Um, yes. You know I travel light." I shrugged off the shoulder strap when she tugged on the leather material relentlessly.

She snorted at my remark as she pulled open the zipper, her fingers delving inside the bag like a hungry snake. "Just travel? You probably fit your whole closet in here," she said begrudgingly.

Shaking my head, I glanced up to absorb my surroundings. The room was spacious, alluding to the rest of the house in size, and painted white in color. Tasteful furniture sat in a standard arrangement around the room, including three couches and a large television screen. A happy fire crackled in the hearth: the source of the room's pleasant heat. The starry sky made for a beautiful vista as the moon peered through the large window at the rear of the room. Upon closer inspection, the window composed the _entirety_ of the northern wall – an intriguing design.

_Something isn't right._

"So, the tour now or later?" Emmett asked as he took a seat on the nearest couch, snatching up a remote control of strange design. "Oh, you have to try the new council, too," he added, tapping some colorful buttons with his thumb.

I aimlessly watched the images on the television as he manipulated the interactive video game. "Um..." I turned slightly, trying to pinpoint the strangeness in the room.

Alice audibly cleared her throat from the doorway. "Sorry, Emmett, but I need to speak with her straightaway."

"Not all at once, everyone," Edward interrupted, shooting Rosalie a look as she dumped the entire contents of my bag into a nearby armchair. "Cornelia's tired."

"Need to sleep, Cora?" Jasper asked concernedly, comforting Alice's disappointment with a partial hug.

Finally putting my finger on the disturbance, I turned to Edward with a quizzical eye. "Where are Carlisle and Esme?" I asked.

Emmett answered instead, saying, "Vacationing on Esme's birthday present."

I returned my eyes to Edward. "'On'?" I repeated.

"It's an island," he answered, a brief smile appearing on his lips, "off the coast of Rio de Janeiro."

My lips formed a line as I ingested the information. "Ah," I simply said.

"They'll return this Sunday at half-past nine in the morning," Alice added, removing herself from Jasper's arms in order to step closer to me. "Unless they decide to stay longer, of course."

_Four days_, I mentally counted. I nodded slowly, feeling a bit unbalanced by the news. The sound of gunfire from the Emmett's game grated on my nerves, which had become suddenly quite short. Refocusing my attention on Alice, who stared at me with growing concern, I said, "I'm ready to speak with you, if you'd like."

Alice's shapely lips wilted with a frown. "I can see you're exhausted, Cornelia... You should rest," she said gently, wringing her small hands.

"No, I... I'm fine." I turned my head, hoping to find a voice of support, only to be met with Edward's disagreeable gaze. He watched me doubtingly, and I sighed my defeat. "But I suppose rest would help a great deal," I confessed, my shoulders dropping tiredly.

"We have a room prepared, I believe," Edward said expectantly, glancing at Rosalie as she continued to rummage through my possessions. After a moment of unresponsiveness, he cleared his throat purposefully.

She tossed two more blouses to the ground to join a growing pile of garments before responding. "Yes, we do," she said, stuffing some selective items back into my bag. She slung the now-light bag over her shoulder. "Let's show her, Edward."

I waved to Jasper and Alice as Edward motioned for me to follow him and Rosalie; we took the eastern exit from the room. I paused when we passed by the armchair that held most of my clothes, including my best sweater. "My clothes..."

"Not anymore!" Rosalie called over her shoulder as she ascended a staircase to the second floor. "I remember buying that sweater for you in 1989, Cornelia. It's time to update your wardrobe."

I felt my lips purse indifferently as I hurriedly followed up the stairs. "It's a good sweater," I muttered stubbornly.

After enacting a brief argument that often arose between Rosalie and myself, mostly over the fickle changes of fashion from decade to decade, the two of them escorted me to the "guest room." The room was actually a system of rooms, and more aptly called a "guest apartment." It comprised of a large sleeping area with a queen-sized bed, an alcove of plush loveseats along with a coffee table, and a sizable bathroom complete with a large washtub.

Rosalie loaned me an outfit for the morning and promised to take me shopping as soon as possible. I agreed easily, knowing that she would not rest until I spent a small fortune on the newest style of clothing for myself. She hugged me one final time before departing, whispering in my ear that she had missed me so.

I patted the white, satin sheets experimentally as I kicked off my penny-loafers at the foot of the bed. A dozen pillows were piled up on the top half of the bed, blocking my view of the window above it. Crawling my way toward them, I pushed the plushy pillows aside to gaze at the clear sky above. I felt myself relax at the comforting sight of the endless galaxies and twinkling stars.

I heard the door creak slightly as Edward pulled it mostly shut; he spoke through the open space that remained. "You'll enjoy your time here, I'm sure."

"Yes, I'm sure... Goodnight," I said, sinking into the mound of pillows with my gaze still heavenward.

After a short pause, Edward stuck his head through the crack fully, watching me. "You enjoyed your time spent in Hoquiam, didn't you?"

I stiffened at the question, and slowly turned my eyes to his. Although I'd tried very hard to avoid my memories of Carlisle and Hoquiam beforehand, my mind then swam with them completely unchecked. My lethargy prevented any actual resistance, so I simply gave Edward a small, weary smile. "Please promise not to tell anyone," I pleaded softly.

"Of course not, Cornelia. I never have." His brows knit together. "Never doubt that you may confide in me without worry. Trust me."

I nodded surely. "I do, Edward." A brief smile passed between us. "Goodnight," I repeated.

"You didn't give me an answer," he said quickly, inching the door open further. I sat cross-legged on the bed as I formulated my response. "You _did_ enjoy your time here... right?"

His golden eyes pried answers from my own before the words had even formed on my tongue. A thousand answers played through my mind, worries and pleasures throughout the raging torrent of memories. I quickly collected the words which most accurately described my feelings toward that particular time in my life, and said honestly, "Those were the best years of my life."

Edward rose his eyebrows with uncharacteristic surprise at my answer; he paused to think a moment before nodding curtly. "Goodnight, Cornelia," he said softly, pulling the door shut as he departed.

The mounted clock on a nearby wall ticked away the seconds as I sat motionlessly on the bed, thinking. My fingers unconsciously dragged through my hair, helplessly trying to rid it of tangles, while my toes curled on the softness of the white comforter. After my mind had wandered over at least a decade's worth of memories, I rolled off the bed and padded over to my bag, where Rosalie had deposited it on a sage-colored loveseat.

"Must get sleep," I reminded myself, setting aside my toothbrush and other toiletries. Rosalie had had the good sense to leave my sleepwear untouched, which consisted of a worn nightgown and an over-sized cotton shirt. Unfolding the gown, I tossed the article on the bed and returned to my bag to search for a hair tie.

My hand fished around my bag fruitlessly as I hunted for the tiny piece of elastic. _I'm sure I placed one in here last night..._ One frustrated sigh later, my fingers brushed an unfamiliar object that immediately intrigued me. Grasping it, I pulled it from beneath my other belongings and gazed at the photograph with narrowed eyes.

Emmett's broad arms grasped Rosalie and Edward's shoulders, gathering them together in an apparent hug as they posed for the shot. His smile was as pure as sunlight, and I instantly felt one spread on my face. Rosalie's lips formed a frozen word as she glanced back at her mate, seemingly oblivious to the picture-taker. I stood between her and Edward, who wore a devious grin as he pointed to the camera with one hand and grasped my shoulder with the other. My head was tilted back with laughter, my cheeks flushed.

A laugh escaped my lips as I recalled the exact moment...

_"__Esme asked that I take pictures, so you all had better cooperate," Alice said, brandishing a black Polaroid._

_Rosalie glanced over her shoulder as she handed another batch of tinsel to Emmett, who placed it directly on my head with a grin on his face. I snatched the shinny, red material and fixed my hair as I turned towards the half-trimmed Christmas tree. Chuckling quietly at the display, Edward began to help me drape the tinsel around the tree._

_"__Just take them, Alice," Rosalie responded, producing yet _another_ box of ornaments from the foyer closet. "It'll look natural that way."_

_Alice pursed her lips speculatively, observing the four of us crowding around the nine-foot-tall pine in the living room. "Just a few of you looking at the camera, please, Rose?" she pleaded sweetly, rocking on the balls of her feet whimsically._

_Rosalie rolled her eyes as she continued her work of sorting green and silver ornaments. "Later, Ali," she stressed._

_I suddenly felt two bodies press uncomfortably close to my shoulders, nearly squeezing the breath from my lungs. Glancing up, I found Emmett already smiling for the picture, eyes glued to Alice. "How's 'dish?" he said through his teeth, grinning still._

_"__Oh, perfect!" Alice exclaimed, raising her camera to take a shot as one would a rifle. "Smile, everyone!"_

_I felt a hand on my left shoulder, turning me to face forward. "Quick – look at the camera," Edward instructed, pointing for my benefit._

_My brow furrowed. "Won't it take minutes to capture?" I asked._

_"__Seconds," he replied quickly._

_"__What?" My eyes narrowed at the wide camera lens for a moment before the information registered in my mind. _Technology is a marvel. _"That's ridiculous!" I laughed heartily._

_"__'Mile, Rosie," Emmett said behind his smile, frozen in place._

_"__Emmett, you're incorrigible," Rosalie said over her shoulder._

_The camera flashed brightly, causing all of us to flinch._

The edges of the photo in my hand were yellow and curled with age, but I gained comfort from the aged image. A smile danced along my trembling lips as I dwelt on the sweet memories, wondering if such a perfect moment could ever be found again. Suddenly realizing that moisture had gathered in my eyes, I wiped it away in annoyance. "The past is the past," I reminded myself in a hoarse voice, setting the picture aside on the nightstand.

Sleep found me quickly that night, and my slumber was more peaceful than it had been in months.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading. I would be ever-grateful if you left your thoughts in a review.<strong>

**-Scarlet**


	68. Chapter 63: Baseball – Part 1

**Readers: Apologies for the delay. Nursing school continues to keep me busy, though winter break was a refreshing opportunity to get some writing in. I hope you enjoy this new chapter. (With luck, the next one will follow quickly!)  
><strong>

**As always, thank you to everyone that continues to preserver with this story. I greatly appreciate each and every one of my readers, both old and new.  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**

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><p><strong>Chapter 63: Baseball – Part One<strong>

_April 18, 2003, 10:22 p.m._

_Forks, Washington_

I breathed a contented sign when the last chord of the song resounded with a triumphant tenor. Glancing at the vaulted ceiling, I allowed my fingers to slip from the keys. "Goodness, the acoustics in this room are amazing," I commented distractedly.

"Eh..." Emmett cast a surly look at the piano as he turned another page in the strange novel—perhaps a comic?—he was reading. "It gets loud sometimes."

Opening my mouth to retort, I was promptly silenced by a sharp squeal from the second story of the house. I cringed at the disconcerting noise, glancing fretfully at the staircase, while Emmett simply sighed and muttered something about Alice.

"Tonight's the night!" she practically sang, dancing down the staircase with a pleasant smile on her face. Pausing at the base of the stairs, she turned and shouted, "Rosie, it's tonight!"

"I heard you the first time," came Rosalie's muffled retort from the third story.

Alice then focused her excitement on the occupants of the living room – Emmett and I. "Are you ready, Em? Cornelia?" she prompted while skipping over to the piano.

"I'm always ready." Emmett flashed a grin in her direction.

I rose from my seat at the piano as Alice approached, regarding her curiously. "Ready for what?" I asked, smiling despite myself from her aura of joy.

The brightness in her eyes dimmed minutely upon hearing my question. "Don't you remember the game I saw yesterday?"

Recognition struck me at her words. During the short week I'd spent in the Cullen household, Alice had had several visions. Some of which visibly distressed her, though she rarely shared her experiences with anyone outside of Jasper. Most of which, however, were of little to no consequence—like the midnight game of baseball that she'd foreseen the day prior.

"Of course," I corrected myself. "It sounds wonderful."

At this, Emmett jumped up from the couch and stretched his arms above his head—a human habit he'd yet to forsake. "We'll be on the winning team this time, CC. I can _feel_ it," he said spiritedly.

I quirked an eyebrow at my childish friend. "Have you stolen Alice's ability?" I quipped.

Alice complimented my joke by regarding him with arms akimbo, a mocking smile on her face. "Well, have you?" she jeered cheekily.

Emmett faltered for a moment before chuckling lightly. "I don't have to, Ali. You're an open book." He grinned and skipped across the room when she took a halfhearted swing at him.

Smiling at their antics, I folded my arms and leaned against the mantle of the fireplace. My heart had been warmed by many recollections throughout my short time at the Cullen estate, both old memories and new. Thereby, I'd come to the conclusion that the majority of my fonder memories were indeed of the Cullens. They were not the most exciting, nor the most enriching, but they were pleasant. And often times, when seeking sanity along the rocky path of eternity, pleasant memories were an endless wellspring of comfort in and of themselves.

"Cornelia?"

I turned at the soft voice, smile lingering on my lips, and found Jasper's honey gaze searching my own. Feeling a rush of embarrassment at being caught unawares, I lowered my gaze as I greeted him.

A small laugh escaped him at my reaction, but he spoke as though he hadn't noticed. "Ready for this evenin'?"

I nodded, returning my eyes to his. "As I'll ever be." Remembering our crushing victory several years earlier, I added, "Maybe we'll be on the same team again."

He uttered a noncommittal sound. "Do you think they're fools enough to actually pair us again?" His lopsided grin reminded me of earlier days, and I smiled.

"Perhaps," I hummed, glancing toward the doorway as Edward entered the living room. His eyes immediately scanned the room, taking attendance.

I'd noticed his exceptional level of responsibility over the past several days; it seemed as though he routinely filled the role of leadership during Carlisle's absence. Having rarely seen the clan without its "father figure" close at hand, it was interesting to note Edward's change in demeanor, however temporary. Additionally, though Jasper was certainly his elder, he gave Edward due respect along with the rest. These observations made me wonder how often they practiced these augmented roles.

"Hang on, I'll get Rosie," Emmett was saying.

Edward nodded. "Please do. It's almost eleven."

Alice had settled on the armrest of the couch, perched there like a bird on a branch, and was fiddling with the television remote as different channels flashed on the screen. She finally paused on a particular local channel that was broadcasting the weather. A quizzical look appeared on my face.

"I thought you knew the weather already, Alice," I noted, joining her in front of the television.

"I do," she said as a small smile appeared on her lips. "This is comedy."

The house became boisterous when an argument about driving arrangements erupted. Though our destination was relatively close, Rosalie insisted that at least one vehicle be taken to carry supplies. Jasper and Emmett simultaneously volunteered to drive, which Rosalie answered with a cold glare. Edward finally settled the debate by allowing two cars to be taken, each alternating drivers on the return trip.

I tarried by the television as the others gathered equipment and the sort, listening to bits and pieces of the local news. The area was a popular destination for hunters and fishers, which doubtlessly fueled the local economy as well as the news stations. One particular segment out of La Push immediately caught my attention.

"_A man has been reported missing out of the Native American reservation of La Push this past weekend,_" the male news anchor was saying. "_Family alerted the Clallum county police department of the disappearance just this morning, and the authorities plan to commence search parties following this evening's category-five thunderstorm. Martha Coker interviewed the man's girlfriend earlier today._"

An awkward pause followed before a young, Quileute woman with dark-rimmed eyes appeared on the screen. Beside her stood a blond-haired reporter holding a microphone, gazing eagerly into the camera lens, and an older Quileute whom I presumed was the girl's mother.

"_I'm here with Leah Clearwater, resident of La Push and girlfriend of missing person Sam Uley._" Though the reporter's next question was directed at the girl, her eyes remained on the audience. "_Leah, when did you last see your boyfriend?_"

The Quileute's hawkish eyes darted irritably toward the camera before she responded. "_Last Friday, so it's been five days_."

"_Do you have any idea where he might be?_"

_Leah's eyes sought the older woman's for a moment before she tentatively replied. _"_I... no. Not at all._"

A sudden lapse in time implied that a portion of the interview had been cut, causing me to wonder what had been said during those moments. The reporter continued to ask, "_And is this a common occurrence or do you have legitimate reason to worry?_"

The girl's dark face had contorted into a scowl at that point, which spoke volumes of her willingness to actually participate in the dialogue. "_Look,_" she said pointedly, "_all I know is that Sam disappeared to God-knows-where and hasn't contacted anyone since. This is not normal. I'm worried. Everyone's worried. We just need –_"

The television suddenly went dark, catching me off-guard. My eyes snapped to Emmett, who innocently tossed the remote onto the nearest couch and flashed me a smile. "Ready to roll?" he asked.

Mentally shaking myself, I nodded. "Yes. Um... let's roll," I said clumsily, causing Emmett to hold his sides in laughter.

The gentle patter of rain could be heard in the garage as the lot of us piled into two of the ten cars housed within. Emmett corralled Rosalie and I into his mustard-colored Jeep as Edward took the other two in his Austin Martin. As we exited the Cullen property, the drizzle transformed into an outright downpour as the storm picked up speed. The Jeep's windshield wipers worked furiously to keep our vision clear as Emmett piloted the noisy contraption through increasingly violent winds.

Nearly ten minutes later, we parked alongside the freeway, teetering haphazardly on the muddy shoulder of the road. From what I could see out my dark, rain-streaked window, we were still in a heavily treed area.

"Forest?" I said quizzically, unbuckling my seat belt as Emmett turned off the engine.

He turned toward the back seat as he answered me. "The clearing is about seven miles that way," he said, pointing to the east.

"Ah." I pulled my frayed cardigan closer as I gazed out at the stormy night.

To my surprise, Rosalie tossed a folded coat into my lap. "Considering how drenched you were last time, you might need this, Cornelia."

Accepting the black raincoat thankfully, I donned the water-resistant material and stepped out into the icy rain. As we met the others at the tree line, Edward's amused glance at my bulky attire was not lost to me.

My eyes strained for light as we navigated the thick forest for the sum of twenty minutes. I apologized profusely as the group graciously kept my slow pace. "I'm not quite what I used to be," I offered regretfully, a bit winded as we jogged along.

"Oh, please," Rosalie countered, close to my left. "It's a nice change of pace, really."

I considered her remark as we finally broke through the foliage. A wide clearing came into view, tendrils of grass wiping about in the wind as they glimmered damply in the meager moonlight. Two noteworthy aspects of the field were the aged, sizable tree stump to the south, and an oddly shaped patch of dirt in the direct center.

The stump drew my gaze. It was obviously quite old since it slumped into the dirt, halfway eroded by rain and time. However, the jagged surface told the tale of its final days before meeting the sharp of an ax. My mind wandered when I recalled that I'd once watched a man hew a mighty oak in a similar fashion...

_"Must you cut it down, Carlisle?" I asked, gazing up at the awe-inspiring oak before me._

_ The summer wind swirled around us gently, stirring my light skirts and the grass around my ankles. Carlisle's sunlit hair was tussled in a rather uncharacteristic manner due to our spending several hours out of doors. The plans for our new home were coming along quickly: we'd prospected the land and drawn diagrams of the house in the manner of a week. All that remained by way of preparation for construction was clearing the land of obstacles, such as that particular oak._

_ Carlisle's caramel eyes scanned the surrounding land once more before gazing down at me furtively. "The branches will become a nuisance forthwith, my dear. It's best to take preventative measures."_

_ I felt the corner of my mouth droop as I watched the branches lazily sway in the breeze. The tree was truly massive in scope—so much so that it filled my entire vision with the span of its branches. The trunk itself was nearly three men wide and its roots rippled through the grass as far as it could reach. It would be a waste to destroy such a powerful display._

_ My lips pursed as I mentally arranged my thoughts into words. "Yes, but this tree—"_

_ Sun-warmed fingertips brushed against my cheek suddenly, startling me. My eyes darted to Carilsle's face as his hand fully cupped my cheek, and I immediately relaxed under his familiar touch. His skin shimmered in the noontime sun and his tender gaze stole my breath._

_ Suddenly feeling the need to be closer to my beloved, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his cool neck. He'd worn rather light clothes—a white, buttoned shirt and cut trousers—which had drawn my attention all day. I let my hand grasp his smooth forearm as he pulled me closer, softly nestling his chin atop my head._

_ "What were you saying, Cornelia?" he prompted, fondly pulling his fingers through my long strands of hair._

_ "I—I was saying…" I froze on the spot when his lips pressed chastely against my forehead; I still wasn't accustomed to his rather blatant displays of affection. But the more physical contact he gave me, either in passing or in earnest, the more I craved it day by day. Turning my face upwards, I met his humored gaze with hazy eyes. "Carlisle… Please, kiss me."_

I felt my heart open to floodgates of sealed emotions as I glanced at the rectangle of soil once more. The earth was freshly turned over, as though someone had deliberately prepared the land for a garden of tender plants. _Could this be…? _Patches of clover were scattered roundabout, as though they had grown and spread for many years.

_ My house…_

"CC, wanna be a team captain this time?"

_The house that we built together…_

"Cornelia?

_ Our home..._

"Earth to CC, please respond, over."

The curse burst forth from my lips unfettered: "_Damn that man_."

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><p><strong>Your reviews truly make me smile.<strong>

**Next time: "Baseball ****– Part Two"  
><strong>

**-Scarlet**


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